


On Call

by grizzly_bear_bane



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Awkward sex romance, Barebacking, Collars, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Feels, Fingerfucking, Ice Play, M/M, New York City, Nipple Play, Novella, Oral Sex, Original Fiction, Overuse of pet names, Prostitution, Rentboys, Rough Sex, Seth Rogen lookalike, Too much sex, Vibrator, Way too much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:36:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently fired from his dead-end accounting job, Paul Rheese has every right to feel depressed. He seems condemned to live the rest of his life in disappointment, in his messy, cluttered apartment in Lower Manhattan. Overweight, self-conscious, and now unemployed, Paul is convinced he will remain single for the rest of his life.<br/>Advertised as a living sex toy, Emery is constantly thrown into the wolves’ dens, of the richest men in the city, and when the job is done and the night is over, he knows he is losing himself.</p><p>Paul finds himself utterly and completely falling for Emery, but but doubt quickly sets in. Was last night all an act, or did Emery really love him back?<br/>Can Paul suffer the heartbreak of seeing Emery leave again if he does call on him for a second encounter?<br/>All the while, where is Emery, and is he thinking of Paul too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this work is ancient. I'm sorry. I am prepared to die a most painful death filled with judgement, side-eyes, and shaking of heads for this craptastic drama.
> 
> Also, please be advised of the warnings.

 

 

JKRP Accounting Company

New York City, NY 10001

February 12, 2009

  

Dear Mr. Paul Rheese, 

To follow up on our evaluation meeting on Monday, February 10th, 2009, I must regretfully confirm that your employment with JKRP Accounting Co. shall be terminated, effective immediately. 

This is due to your group position, as well as several other departments, having to be downsized. This in no way reflects your amazing performance in your job, which has been entirely satisfactory. We acknowledge that for many years, you have had outstanding attendance and an illustrious track record for efficiency. To further recognize this, we are willing to write a glowing letter of recommendation to any future employer you may have. 

We at JKRP Accounting Co. wish you the best on your future endeavors.

 

Sincerely,

Phillip Sullivan-Peters

Supervisor  

 _____________________________

 

“ _Fired_?  What the…” Paul stood in the doorway of his apartment, staring at the letter in mild shock as realization finally set in.  He was fired.  By a _letter_.  A letter that had been given to him, in person, by the very man who’d written that letter, when all he had to do was tell Paul that he was being fired _then_ , instead of smiling at him at the end of the day and handing Paul this bomb to take home and open in private. “Well, this is fucked.” A full ten minutes passed in silence.   He simply balled it up and tossed it into the corner of his messy, cramped apartment, on top of the mountain of other crumpled papers burying the trashcan.

Downsizing. “Of course,” he sighed, tossing his sleet and rain soaked coat over the arm of a sofa, making his way past the empty pizza boxes, dirty clothes piles, newspapers, and DVDs strewn across the floor. “I hate life,” he came to the conclusion as he stood in the middle of his messy kitchen, staring at the heap of dirty dishes in the sink, absently wondering how long they’d been there.

Paul had been a basement employee at JKRP Accounting for over ten years now, always getting his work done on time, always smiling at his bitchy and obnoxious supervisor whenever he would swing by to give Paul even more work – _on his way to go flirt and hang out with Paul’s hot coworkers_ – always trying his best to be as cheerful and obedient as his coworkers, the skinny, beautiful, and neat men and women around him, who had always avoided his cluttered, crumb-covered desk, and more importantly, him.

Sure, he wasn’t exactly the son of Aphrodite, but he had… well, a great personality, or so he hoped.  And wasn’t being a nice person a surefire compensation for lacking in all other areas?  Wasn’t a great smile and cute dimples supposed to draw the eyes towards the face and warm heart, rather than to the excess hundred or so pounds surrounding his midsection? 

Well, apparently not to the people he worked – _had_ worked – with.  In Paul’s cased, gays guys, especially hot gay guys, did not have time for ‘nice.’  But even his straight coworkers wouldn’t give him the time of day either, so it was all the same.  And after all this time, he’d put up with it at work, come home to an empty apartment, and did the whole thing over the next day, and it had still blown up in his face.

He grabbed a beer out of the fridge. _I wonder who else got bent over the table today? With my luck, probably only me. ‘Downsizing’ so the company can hire another hottie to work in the basement where no one but the other hottie workers will see them?_

He looked out of the large, floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the drenched night lit city.  When he approached the glass, his breath fogged the windowpane.  The apartment was heated and comfortable, but he could guess that it had to be close to freezing outside.  Paul wondered for a depressing moment, as he looked out at the expanse of lit windows and drawn shades, just how many people were as lonely as he was tonight. 

He sighed, and looked around the loft again. _And you wonder why you can’t get a date ever in this shitpile? Even with the smile thing? Look at this place._ The apartment really was a mess and in need of some major cleaning.  From the window he could see the kitchen and living room entirely; the loft was spacious and expensive, but from the way it was kept, it appeared to be the complete opposite of ‘upscale.’  The floor was almost covered in junk, books were stacked everywhere, even the wallpaper was starting to peel from neglect in spots up by the ceiling, and when he wiped away the fog on the glass to clear his view the large window was dusty and still slightly blurred.  He reached down to pick some of the papers and boxes, and found he had nowhere to put them as all the trashcans were beyond full.  He contemplated going outside the apartment to properly empty them all, then remembered the mood he was in – as well as the worsening weather outside – and put it all off for another day he knew would never come.

Paul sighed again and grabbed the phonebook out of the counter drawer to start his nightly routine of fast food ordering and movie renting to pass the time.

He flipped through a couple of pages, about to call the number to the pizza place when something sticky on the back cover caught his attention and he dropped the book on the floor. “Really, God?  First I lose my job, now I can’t even balance a phonebook in my hand?  Are you planning on starving me now, too,” he whined, and reached down to pick it back up when an ad on the page it’d dropped to caught his attention.

“ _Daddy’s Boys_?  What the hell…” He looked closer to read the fine print, “Oh… Oh!  Wow, that’s… interesting.” He floundered for a moment as he looked at the scantly clad man posing beside the ad.  His hair was frosted and spiked into a Mohawk.  His legs were covered in fishnet stockings, along with his skinny arms that were wrapped around a lean chest and small waist. “Wow.” With the pizza forgotten for now, Paul leaned back against the counter, fully intrigued by the ad. “Is this shit even legal?”

The ad itself only specified an escort service for arranging a date, and a phone sex line for those johns too shy to go out in person, but something about the guy posing to the side definitely alluded to more, something not so run-of-the-mill as the usual escort service ads he’d seen. 

There was a website listed at the bottom in tiny print for ‘further information,’ if one wanted to schedule a date. “Hm.”

Putting the book down, he hunted through piles of paper to find his laptop and brought it back with him to the kitchen counter.

Driven by his escalating curiosity, he searched for the site, and immediately found a different advertisement as soon as the webpage loaded. 

It was just like the phonebook ad, only more suspicious.  And although the webpage stated that it was “Unfortunately down and undergoing maintenance,” there was no blank page, or any of the signs of a normal site under construction; the pictures and background where still active, as well as the various escort and online porn ads running on top of and either sides of the screen. 

“That’s pretty weird.  Oh, who cares; this is a waste of time,” he huffed, wondering what he was doing, and dragged the on-screen arrow towards the close button.  However, halfway there, the arrow shifted into a clicking hand over a patch of empty space in the upper left-hand corner.  Curiosity now fully back in charge, he clicked the space and found a totally different site when the new page loaded.

“Okay, wow.” It was clear now that the homepage was just a cover-up, and that this must be were the inevitably illegal action went down. There was naked flesh, cum shots and hard cocks everywhere, decent young men in black dog collars all around the page screwing or getting screwed in various positions, ads for videos, ads for pictures, ads for dates, and most obviously, ads for sex. 

There was a link where customers could chat with the available escorts and arrange their meetings. Paul stopped himself from clicking further.  _What the hell am I doing?_

Paul looked around the messy loft again, and at the pile of crumpled papers in the corner where, sitting on top, was the letter from his job telling him to fuck off.

He looked back at the screen.  It wasn’t an issue of whether or not he could pay; he had the money. What he _didn’t_ have was the courage to actually pay someone for company, let alone sex.

But it had been so long since the last time he’d had a lover, and now, more than ever, he needed someone to be with, because when the movie was over and the pizza boxes emptied and stacked, he’d still be the fired, rejected, fat slob he’d been for the past five years.  But could he really bring himself to admit how desperate he was, and actually buy someone’s _body_ for sex tonight, or ever?

Paul scoffed at the thought, but deep down, he was cracking.  Five years ago, he wouldn’t even be thinking about paying for sex.  It would have been something he’d laughed at, right before going to bed with Mark, the love of his life.

Mark, the neat freak, health nut with bright eyes, a witty sense of humor, and a love that seemed unbreakable and unstoppable.  

Mark, the one who simply got up one day and left with half of the furniture, while Paul was at his shitty job, being harassed by his coworkers. 

He’d even taken the dog with him when he left. Needless to say, it crushed Paul in ways unimaginable.  He stopped caring for himself, stopped laughing, stopped living.  Sure, after a while, those surface things gradually came back, but all too late for his love life and his health.

He had fallen apart and now, he didn’t know if it was possible to fix what he’d done to himself.  Cleaning an apartment was easy, finding another job was easy, but tearing down the wall of… _junk_ now surrounding him, regaining his confidence?  That was hardly possible.  Mark had been responsible for taking care of him, for getting him to go to the gym, to exercise and stay healthy and away from the fast food and over-eating, but those things where Paul’s only comfort now.

“I’m thirty, jobless, and alone.  And probably will be alone for the rest of my life.  Good job, Paul, even if the asshole ripped your heart into shreds and left you, you still could have went to another gym or learned how to cook your own damn food, hire a maid, something, so you wouldn’t have screwed up you sex life even more,” he chastised himself, as the words, ‘ **These boys will do anything for money**!!’ flashed in red bold letters across the screen.

“You know what, Paul, screw it.  You haven’t had sex in _five years_ , you lost your job, and you look awful.  You can’t live off your hand forever; you need to be with some else every once in a while, someone real.  I mean… why not? Just for tonight, let’s get laid, okay? We’ll get laid tonight, and tomorrow, we start off fresh, right?  We’ll just do enough to get the edge off and then after… I’m going to make a change… Okay, no I’m probably not, but still, just… It can’t be that bad.  I mean, it’s sex, and they’re hot, and you want to have sex with a hot guy, so do it.”

He closed his eyes and clicked on the link, which opened up to a line of more images of sex, but this time, the pictures were set up as profile shots for the escorts.  Paul scrolled down the page, hot over some, cringing at others.  Most of the pictures were only focused on the escort’s mouth, ass, or cock, and didn’t do a very good job of showing him what the guys actually looked like, as most of their bodies or faces where mostly compromised by the other person in the shot.  Beside each picture was obviously a fake name, along with a short bio of the person’s body type, height, ethnicity, kinks, and sex role as top, bottom, or versatile. 

He was about to give up when, right under the bondage team, flashed a profile shot of someone with long, black hair being roughly taken over the side of a steel table. 

The photo looked like it was taken from a high point in the corner of an industrial, modern-looking office.

The young man’s face was again obscured, by the older man who was pulling his hair back while he took him from behind.

Most of the shot was focused on the older man’s back while the black haired one looked over his shoulder, neck twisted painfully by the death-grip in his beautiful hair.

Paul continued to stare at this picture for a long time, enthralled, looking into the flash of pretty bright-green eyes glancing at him through the screen, his lean back held taunt as his hands gripped the corners of the metal table he was bent over. “Wow.”

But there was something off in this picture that Paul missed, so distracted by his lust, something that didn’t seem right.  All the elements of lust and rough passion were there, but the look in the pretty boy’s face seemed a bit… _forced_.

Paul clicked the picture to see the larger image, which opened up to the young man’s profile page.  More pictures presented were of him and the older man from different angles, and while extremely hot, they all showed the same signs: hands gripping the table for either support or a chance to escape; arms, shoulders and back held tight like an arched bow about to snap, teeth slightly gritted against the pain of too rough sex. 

He wasn’t enjoying the sex at all, which could explain why his cock was hidden in every shot by a large hand gripping his crotch.  His beautiful, long hair hung over his shoulders, covering his face in some shots, but the older man would pull his hair to show his neck before biting into it, letting the boy’s features show a little more each time.

There was a video of the ‘encounter’ available in the corner of the screen, but Paul didn’t need to see it.  His heart pounding in his chest didn’t need it, nor did the aching erection in his work pants. “Wow.”

It was a good enough excuse to get away from the laptop, so he headed to his room for a shower and a change into his leisure clothes, but neither of these things helped to calm the thoughts swirling around his head.  He was going to proposition this man for sex tonight.  It wasn’t even an issue of whether or not he was going to anymore; seeing those bright-green eyes sealed the deal immediately.  But he stopped halfway back to the kitchen, looking around at his apartment again and at the mess that had been piling up for the last few years. _Just because you’re paying the guy doesn’t mean he has to swim through hell and high water just to find the floor to walk on._

Feeling a new, slightly nervous resolve to impress his soon-to-be lover, he went to the phonebook, ordered his pizza at last and went to work cleaning the neglected loft.

 

* * *

 

“Strip, boy… Crawl to me…”

“You getting tired, boy?  I’m not done with you yet.  Open your mouth and call me daddy, you little slut,” the john growled low as he pried Emery’s mouth open with coarse fingers and shoved his cock into the raven’s mouth for the third time that evening.

Emery could feel his knees aching on the hardwood floor of the john’s home office, his jaw sore and his arm shaking under the abuse of such a long and trying day. The john was an old, regular client with bad habits and too much control. He new Emery’s pimp personally and took advantage of that at least twice a week.

 _How much more of this before I get to leave,_ Emery wondered. _No, Em. Stop complaining. He’s paying me $800 dollars. Do not bite. Do not bite! He’s paying me $800 dollars…_ Emery kept his green eyes focused on the older man’s face as much as he could, ignoring the family photos on the wall and desk, repeating the mantra over and over in his head as he tried to not gag on the monster being shoved down his throat.  _Do not bite!  This will be over with in… five, four, three, two—_

Fingers gripped his hair to stop him from pulling back as the man started to cum in his mouth, only letting him go halfway through to politely shoot the last of his semen on Emery’s face. _Thanks a lot, asshole._ “You know it’s extra to come in my mouth, right? I tried to warn you.” He spat the stuff in a nearby cup and grabbed a handkerchief to wipe his face off.

The john rolled his eyes, sitting back in his office chair now fully satisfied. “Oh no, that’s bullshit. I pulled out, so take the money we agreed on and get your ass out of here before I give it a reason to need to charge me extra.”

Emery was about to snap, but instead, continued the mantra in his head while he tied his hair back again. “Whatever. Don’t ‘forget’ to tip me again this time.  You should be lucky I keep coming back. You know damn well how much I let you off for breaking the club’s rules.”

“Yeah, yeah, here, take this,” he muttered, handing Emery another fifty dollars. “And don’t think you can talk to me like that, you little bitch. I know the man who feeds you, remember? Oh, and make sure those pretty black waves are loose next time you come here. I don’t want to waste anymore time waiting for you to untie it. You know how much I love running my fingers through it.”

Emery snorted as he headed for the door, trying to ignore the horrible taste in his mouth, wishing he’d remembered to bring a mint or something with him whenever he went out for jobs, “Yeah, you and the rest of New York City.  Pretty soon I won’t have any hair left if everyone keeps pulling it out all the damn time,” he muttered, with barely enough restraint left in him to not slam the door on his way out…

 

 

Emery spit the toothpaste out again as he stood under the spray of the very warm, very cleansing shower. “Today sucked… just like yesterday. But at least the pay was good.” He stretched out and massaged all the knots and kinks out of his neck and shoulders, looking forward to going to bed extremely early and getting some much needed sleep _. As long as I don’t get any more calls tonight, I’ll be fine._

Showering at the end of such a long and tiresome day was always something he looked forward too, and spent every possible moment under the relaxing spray to wash off all the memories, the aches, and shame from is his body and mind; it was a place where he could get rid of all the challenges and disappointments of his life and just be himself, own himself, and not have to be anything more for anyone else.  In this small shower stall, he could finally be alone and think; it was the only place and time in his day-to-day routine that he actually had time to himself.  It was private and he loved that; just him, the softly scented soap, and the spray of warm water.

He could hear low moaning and giggles coming from the shower stall next to his when he finally turned the water off.  Something small clattered to the floor and one of the boys swore under his breathed as the other one continued to giggle. Emery sighed, baffled that some of his housemates were still alive and awake enough to have sex with each other after having so many hands on them during the day.  It disappointed him that they did drugs more than anything; it was as if they wanted to stay here forever, watching their hard earned money stay in a continuous loop from their pimp’s hands to their own and then back to their pimp the next second for a score of dope and needles.

Ignoring the loud rumble in his empty stomach and his growing melancholy, he toweled off and headed back to the dorms where the rest of the callboys stayed.  Grabbing a clean undershirt and the issued, customary thong, he eased under the covers of his bottom bunk bed, and close his eyes to the music and chatter of his other housemates. 

Today had been a very stressful day.  Emery had been on call since noon that morning, and hadn’t had a decent break until now.  Every client he’d had had been a complete jerk as usual, tipped horribly, and smelt awful.  He’d been spat on, choked, gagged, and starved all day by these pricks, who should have been kissing his feet for the shit he put up with to make their lonely asses happy. 

Sure, he loved lively sex, could handle it rough on occasion, and most kinks could be enjoyable with the right people… But when the hell did he ever get a client like that anymore?  Emery had been in the business for three years, and now, on his twenty-first birthday, all he wanted was to be left alone to massage the bruises and aches the shower regrettably had missed.

Lying on the comfortable but thin cot, he reminisced about the years he’d been here.  In spite of all he’d been through in his short, youthful life, Emery was a great person, nice, energetic, up for almost anything, and loved sex.  Yet after being here for four _months_ , the nature of his work and his ‘up-for-anything’ mentality had drastically changed.  Now three years later, he still had to smile, still had to agree to the terms of the encounter, even if when he got there, the john didn’t want to play nice anymore.  And why would they want to?  According to the bullshit profile online, Emery’s pimp insisted that he loved rough sex and getting bitten or tossed around a room, impaled on an older man’s cock.

All because of those pictures on the website … _and_ the videos… _and_ the mandatory collar they all had to wear… _and_ the hidden cameras everywhere that recorded and broadcasted everything he and the other boys did every second of every day.  Which meant that the shower he’d taken five minutes ago was more than likely being downloaded by hundreds of creepy bastards already.  The bed he was sleeping in was more than likely being filmed now, as every time he’d find a camera and rip it out it would always be replaced the next day, which meant…

 _No. Fuck that_ , he thought. If some guy wanted to get his rocks off watching him in bed tonight, then he’d have to just jack off to Emery’s pretty sleeping face, because there was no way he was going to masturbate for anyone’s cheap thrill tonight.

But the ringtone on his small cell phone went off about ten minutes later, waking him up from the peaceful sleep he’d finally found.  

 _[Emmy. I know you’re sleeping, but your shift’s not over with and the web clients aren’t paying for you to sleep. Get your skinny butt from under those sheets and get to work. Thanx.]_  

It was a text message from the resident pimp Ricky, who was directly below the boss—anything he ordered had to be taken care of, any whim, any bizarre and degrading request was answered, or else his “pets” suffered the painful consequences.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Emery sighed. “Fine,” he kicked off the covers as he was told and reached for his box of toys under his bed, picking out his favorite, smallest vibrator he had with a smirk.  _All I have to do is do something other than sleep; I don’t have to over do it tonight for anybody._   He clicked it on and went to work with ease.  He put on his iPod to watch some of the saved porn clips to get in the mood, leaving the head phones off so that he could hear the silvery, quiet buzz of the slender vibrator in his ass.

The other callboys in the nearby beds and the top bunk of his own didn’t seem to mind, as they were all preoccupied with work themselves, but the music was turned down nearby so they could hear him and his little toy as it continued to send him into higher pleasure.  It was like clockwork for Emery; he loved sex, it couldn’t be helped.  His body taunt, damp hair loose and all over the place as his pretty mouth let slip quiet pants and moans, his body moving with the rhythm of the men on the small screen in front of him.  He stroked his cock and thrust the vibrator in deeper, faster.  He didn’t care if the others were listening or even watching him now, didn’t care who was watching him through cyberspace, he felt good, and in control of his own body’s pleasure for the first time all day.

Coming down from his release, he clicked off the vibrator to be washed later after he caught his breath.  Putting the iPod away he lay on the disheveled bed, breathing deep.

 _I don’t care what anybody says now. I need to sleep. Please, God, let me sleep,_ Emery prayed, as he made his way back from the communal bathroom with his now clean and shiny metal toy.  He dropped it into the little box and pushed it back under the small bed.

As he pulled the covers back over his bare legs, his cell phone rung again with another message from Ricky, right about the time when the little red light flashed in the corner of his bed frame, signaling that someone wanted to talk online. 

 _[Hey Emmy, you got a new john wanting to chat with you. Get up and go to work, kitten. Thanx… And by the way, that last session was totally hot. Nice work.]_  

Emery sat on the bed, staring at the message as the light continued to flash, in slight disbelief. _Thanks, God._ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself.  It didn’t work.  “I hate my life.” He grabbed the small laptop he’d been given to stay close to his clients, and saw a message from an unknown member in Manhattan pop up instantly. 

[ **Anonymous** : Hi! I’m Paul. I was wondering if you were free to talk tonight?] 

 _I’m never free, sweetheart; my ass is always tethered to somebody’s cock_.  He sighed, typing a response, “Of course, baby, I’ve been waiting for you to find me all day.  What’s on your mind, sugar?”

 

* * *

 

[ **TigerLily** :  Of course, baby, I’ve been waiting for you to find me all day. What’s on your mind, sugar?] 

Paul stared at the screen, surprised to get a response. “Holy shit, what do I say now?” He reread what he’d typed, scolding himself for using his name while trying to stay ‘anonymous’ and for saying something so cheesy.

But then again, what the other guy said sounded even worse. _He hasn’t been waiting for you, stupid, he was probably about to screw a totally hot guy and you just butted in_. At first, Paul wasn’t sure if this was even the guy he was really talking to, but looking at the picture again, he took a breath and continued. “This is crazy.” 

[ **Anonymous** :  I’m sorry; I’ve never done this before. I’m not sure how I should go about this… What’s your name? How old are you? What’s your favorite color?] 

[ **TigerLily** :  You’re cute, sugar. It’s okay if you’re new, I’ll lead you through it, all right? All I need to know for now is how horny you’re feeling and how much you’re willing to pay for what you want from me, and all you need to know is that I’m up for it. Whatever it is, as long as it’s not against the rules.]

[ **Anonymous** :  Well, I guess just normal sex. I’m not really into anything with bondage or whatever… I’m ordering pizza as well, so if you want to eat with me, and maybe we could watch a movie too? I’ll pay you $5,000 for the night, if that’s okay with you? I’m not sure what the rates are. Oh, and I’m great with tips so…] 

Emery glared at the screen for a few minutes. _Is this guy seriously offering me dinner and a movie? This is ridiculous. He’s probably going to be even crazier and more of a jerk than the rest of these pricks!_ He added up the cost in his head. _But for $5,000? Might as well. He’ll only be paying me to be there for four hours…_

[ **TigerLily** :  Pizza? Great, I’m starving, but I must warn you, I may not be much in the mood for pizza once I’m finished with that cock of yours, and that movie might have to get put on hold too, if you know what I mean… Where’s your place? I can’t wait to get over to you. I’m sooooo horny.] 

Paul finished the arrangement with the address to his apartment.  He closed the laptop and sat back on the now tidy sofa. “What the hell did I just do? I’m not this desperate. Oh shit, what if he gets here and has like, teeth missing or something! Or what if he’s strung out on drugs and ODs in the middle of sex!? You just had to let shit get to you and now, there’s a huge possibility that you’ll wake up either in jail tomorrow, with a dead body, or with an STI. Good work Paul, you _idiot_!”

Paul sat on the couch in silence, all sorts of thoughts swirling around in his head over why he’d done this and why it was going to be a huge mistake.

Suddenly the doorbell rang.  Paul’s stomach clenched with nervousness, “Who… Who is it?” He got up from his spot on the couch and looked through the peephole.

The pizza guy was swaying in the hallway to the music blaring through his headphones.  Paul released the breath he’d been holding as he hurried to get his wallet. “Hello, um… how’d you get up here?”

The guy popped the gum he chewed loudly, “Came in with the lady downstairs. It was easier than waiting for you to come down,” he murmured, counting the money before leaving, humming the music down the hall to the elevator.

Paul set the two large pizza boxes on the counter. _Maybe I should just call and cancel. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. But I did promise food, so… I wonder if I should give him money for a taxi back for all the trouble?_

He paced around in circles in the center of the living room, thinking up a valid excuse he could use.  As he was about to pick up his cell to cancel, the intercom buzzed by the door.

 _Fuck, I’m screwed._   Paul pressed the button nervously, “Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Paul? It’s Tigerlily, may I come up,” a sweet and young voice queried from the speaker. “Pretty, pretty please? It’s so cold and rainy outside,” he whined in a baby doll voice.

“Um… Sure.” Paul cursed to himself and smacked his forehead as he pushed the button to let in his guest. “You big, stupid, fat idiot, Paul!” He walked away from the door and back into the kitchen for a beer to calm himself down. 

At the quiet tap on the door, Paul almost pissed himself. “ _Shit_. Um, Hang on!” He stumbled over the corners of the coffee table and sofa as he hurried to the door, only to pause for a moment, bracing himself, before finally opening the door.

Paul was frozen solid, mouth hung open in a daze of lust and horror.

 “Hello, I’m Tigerlily, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the most beautiful creature Paul could ever possibly imagine extended his slender hand towards him.

This whole time, _he’d_ been stressing over what _Tigerlily_ would look like…

The beautiful young man looked only about eighteen, slender yet slightly curvy like a young girl in the legs, his hair was longer and fuller than what the picture had shown as it waved and twisted over his shoulders down to his hips.  His clothes were black and tight, clinging to his frame in all the right places as he removed his coat and hung it on the coat rack beside the door, all while Paul still stood there struck with his mouth hanging open.  Tigerlily’s face was even more gorgeous than the rest of his body, those full, Cupid’s bow lips, high cheekbones, and captivating green eyes that pieced Paul’s heart and soul and made him feel ugly.  They made him feel disgusting and worthless, in his old t-shirt and sweatpants with a beer in his hand, to be under such a sensual gaze as Tigerlily’s.

Paul’s heart skipped a beat as Tigerlily’s pretty – _pierced_ – tongue eased out of his full lips to wet them, as he waited for Paul to say anything.

It was official: Paul had completely screwed himself over big this time.


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Paul?” The smile on Tigerlily’s face faltered and it broke Paul’s heart to see, he was so enamored, “Is… is something wrong?  Are you okay?  Do you want me to leave?” _Please say yes!_

“Yes! No!  I mean… Shit.  I’m… I’m sorry; I’ve made a mistake.  I’m a mess.  And the apartment’s a mess, I’m sorry.  Maybe we should reschedule?  Or not, I… I’m really sorry for wasting you time.  I’ll still pay you for the trouble.”

“Wait, what’s wrong?  The apartment is… It’s okay, baby.  Are you sick?  I’m really good at making soups, maybe I could fix you something?” Emery couldn’t believe that he’d just said what he’d said.   _Soup_?  The guy was obviously rejecting him, or trying to get him off his guard so he could tie him up and murder him, but then again, as he looked at the man and his apartment more thoroughly, that didn’t seem as plausible.  This Paul guy actually seemed more scared and nervous than anything.  

And leaving now would only mean going to bed hungry tonight and that pizza smelt wonderful. “Hey, it’s okay. You said you wanted to talk, and eat pizza and watch a movie? If you don’t want sex, that’s more than fine with me. Trust me, babe, I’ve been getting worked over all day and,” – _Change the subject!_ – “Um, so if you still wanted company, we can still… you know.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to. I’m really sorry. I mean, I’m sure you get called on by fat slobs like me all day; you don’t need anymore.”

“Fat slobs? _You_? Is that why you were… Ohhh, I see. Look Paulie, I didn’t sign up for this kind of work expecting to get Brad Pitt or Johnny Depp every time I got called. I mean, I don’t even think those kind of guys need to pay… Not that there’s anything wrong with paying for it, but… Just relax. You’re fine, and your apartment’s nice,” he forced a smiled.

“Really,” Paul couldn’t look the Adonis in the eyes anymore, feeling like his words were only part of the prepackaged deal. “I’ll pay you, so you don’t have to pretend. I know what I am.”

Tigerlily rolled his eyes and walked past him and into his apartment with catlike strides, no longer waiting for Paul to properly invite him in. “And so do I. If you’re going to be an ass to me, or something, then so what? It happens, it’s a setback, but it’s money…” _Why do I keep telling him these things, I don’t know him… For Christ’s sake, Emery, you’ve done this a thousand times, so stop acting like you’ve never done this before._ “Anyways, you’re fine, honey. You showered, right? Your apartments clean enough, and you don’t look bad at all. I’m actually kinda happy to be here, to be honest. I haven’t had a client like you in a long time,” he purred, giving Paul a sensuous look.

“Really?”

“Really. Now, am I still allowed to stay? I’ve starving, and tired of standing like a stray cat in the middle of your apartment,” he smiled, glancing around the open space of the loft.  He didn’t see any pill bottles or medications, so maybe his guy really wasn’t crazy or anything.  This would be easy.  All he had to do was eat some great pizza, listen to the poor guy talk about his feelings or whatever, then ease Paul into sex, get his money, and head back to the house for some much needed sleep.

Paul nervously led the man over to his couch while he retrieved the pizza and beer, chastising himself again for not picking something healthier.

These thoughts were immediately squashed when, as soon as the boxes were placed on the coffee table, Tigerlily pulled off his black long sleeve shirt to reveal lean, pale arms and an even tighter white t-shirt.  Paul stood frozen again by how slim and beautiful Tigerlily was, in disbelief that he’d actually have a chance to sleep with him, let alone have him sitting on his couch staring hungrily at greasy pizza.

He sat beside the younger man, opening the first box and pulling out two slices for himself as Tigerlily continued to stay eerily quiet and didn’t move. “You hungry?”

Tigerlily’s eyes rose to meet his, “Very much, but you didn’t say… if it was okay or not for me to eat with you yet… I’m sorry, I get that sometimes,” he shrugged. “You’re very… interesting, Paul. I usually don’t get clients that make me run my mouth so much,” he teased. _I’ve never been this open, or stupid, with anyone before like this_. He tentatively reached for a slice of pizza, eyes fixed on Paul with finely hidden skepticism.

“Well, this is what I called you for, so… Feel free. Talk all you want… I… I like your voice.  It’s pretty,” Paul blushed and quickly stuffed the rest of the slice in his mouth to stop from blabbing more himself.

A small bruise on Tigerlily’s wrist caught Paul’s attention as he reached over Paul for beer. “Hey, what’s that?” As Paul looked closer, he could see more shallow bruises along the boy’s arms and a darker one on the side of his neck.

“Oh, this,” he shrugged, “If you want, I can cover up? No? Well, it starts with a miscommunication between myself and my pimp about how exactly far I was willing to go… and ends with all my clients assuring me that I can’t live without rough sex and violence,” he paused, with a blush of his own. He put the beer down, frowning.  Going all day without food, and then suddenly wolfing down pizza and alcohol had to be making his tongue lose. “I’m sorry, I’m not good at holding alcohol, I guess. Don’t listen to me, I’m talking nonsense.” And suddenly the wall that he’d been drunkenly taking down had to be rebuilt before he spilled his emotional guts all over the pizza.

“But, doesn’t that hurt?  I mean, do you actually like it when people are… you know? Are rough like that?”

“Of course. Like I said, I’m up for anything,” Tigerlily winked.

Emery dropped his eyes to the couch, wanting to open up, but knowing that if he did, he wouldn’t have a job in the morning. “It gets me off, when guys let out their frustration on me, toss me around, fuck me ‘til I’m hurt… And we all know how pretty boys look better when bruised and so seemingly vulnerable. It keeps the clients coming back. These bruises here? They came from a man with a rape fetish… Do you like that kind of play, Paul?”

“No way, that’s insane! I mean, you shouldn’t be treated like that! No one should… I mean, unless they _actually_ liked it, then I—No. Tigerlily, I want to make love to you, _really_ make love to you, and give you a massage, talk, whatever, and make love again for hours… You’re so beautiful Tigerlily, I just want to worship you; _not_ hurt you, never.  All of your clients should feel at least half the way I do about being with you.” Paul reached across the couch to brush a lock of hair from Tigerlily’s face, but instead of leaning into it, Tigerlily pulled away.

Emery stood up from the couch and stalked to the door, grabbing his coat.

Paul, startled, followed him, “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” He gently grabbed Tigerlily’s arms to keep the man from leaving.

“Don’t touch me!” Emery shouted, finally losing his cool under the weight of exhaustion that he’d been holding onto all day. “Look, I don’t have to stay here and set myself up for any more of this. I have limits, okay?” He knew he would probably get fired for this, or worse, but he couldn’t stop himself, “You think I’m dumb enough to believe that you aren’t just some… _craftier_ version of the rest of the psychos I fuck? Keep your money, whatever, but I’m not falling for that shit.”

“But I’m serious! I want to treat you like a human being; I don’t want to hurt you! I… I want to _earn_ it to get into your pants,” Paul blushed. “Listen, yes, at first I called you because I was horny and lonely, but when you walked through that door and smiled at me, I… Please, stay. I’m not trying to fool you or anything, I just… I’ve never known anyone so beautiful before, and I’m not ashamed to say that I want to cherish this time with you. Please, I’ve had a horrible day, a horrible _life_ , and I just want to not be alone right now, that’s all. And if we have sex, just know that I won’t hurt you. I swear it.” Paul took a breath, embarrassed by his confession, but proud he’d actually had the courage to get it out.

Emery looked into Paul’s rich brown eyes, reading him, _believing_ him, hoping Paul was telling the truth, because as he listened to Paul speak, something odd began to creep up inside of him. 

Trust, and attraction; faint, but nonetheless, still there.  He felt comfortable even in the tight, bruising grip of Paul’s desperate paws, and he liked that. _What are you getting yourself into, Em?_ “O-okay. Sure, I apologize. I shouldn’t have… have,” his voice died as he continued to study Paul.  He was led back to the sofa and abandoned food, wondering who Paul really was and why he was here in the first place.  Surely a nice guy like Paul didn’t need… but then again, Paul had basically melted into a puddle of no-self-esteem before Emery even got into the front door…

“So…” Paul searched for something to ease them both out of the awkward moment, “Um…”

“Where are you from, Paulie,” Emery asked quietly.

“Here. Well, I mean, not _here_. I’ve only had this place for a… I was born in Long Island,” he finally muttered.

“What did your parents do for work? Where did you go to school,” he asked in the same small yet steady voice.

“Well, my dad was the commissioner of the police there; he started out young as a regular police officer, but worked his way up, and mom was a cosmetic surgeon.  She made most of the money,” he shrugged, embarrassed by the look on Tigerlily’s face.

To even imagine coming from so much money… “Wow. That must have been nice, really nice. I bet you had a fun time growing up, huh? Having little worry of money like that…”

“Well, the vacations were great, but I spent most of my early childhood being homeschooled by a tutor, while my parents worked all the time, and… after they passed, I got shipped off to a boarding school in London by my grandfather until I turned eighteen and had rights to my inheritance…”

“Oh… How did they die,” Emery asked quietly, touching Paul’s leg.

“Car wreck. Dad was a speeder and mom was a drinker, so it was inevitable, I guess… At least, that’s what my grandfather reasoned,” he shrugged. “I didn’t really have a solid relationship with them since I didn’t really see them that much, so it’s okay.”

 “So what did you do once you got your money?”

“I spent a lot of it on business and accounting degrees at various universities… Don’t give me that look, I’m a nerd, I know,” he blushed, “And great with numbers, so… And I bought this apartment, too, which was great.  I finally had the chance to be fully independent.”

“It’s a nice place… A bit large to be living in by yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Paul’s smile faltered, “Yeah, I know. I used to share it with my partner at the time. It was nice…”

Emery opened his mouth to ask another follow-up question, but quickly shut it, only to open it again and finally ask the nagging question, “ _Used_ to?”

“We split up five years ago. I don’t really talk about it much.”

“Oh. Sorry. I figured, but… You know me; I have a big mouth, so…”

“So,” Paul started awkwardly to change the subject again, “Ah… How was your day,” he bit his tongue, mentally slapping himself for asking an _escort_ how his day was.  Especially an escort who was not too long ago getting covered in fresh bruises.

Tigerlily smirked, “You don’t want me to answer that question, sweetheart.”

“Yeah… sorry. Um, how old are you? What made you decide to… you know, become an escort?”

“I’m not an escort, I’m a prostitute. You don’t have be nice or polite about it,” Tigerlily smiled a little, “It is what it is, I guess. I’ve been working this job for three years now, and stopped being called for dinner dates about two years ago, so now I’m just a prostitute. What started me on my path to slutsville? Well… my brother sold me for a car when I was fifteen. It was the first time I’d ever had sex—”

“Oh my God, that’s horrible!”

“No, not really. It was good sex, considering what most of my housemates had to go through and all… I was pretty lucky, and the guy wasn’t half bad looking either… if you exclude the fact that he was forty years my _senior_ , so… Anyways, I became I bit of a whore after that, I couldn’t get enough, and since I basically sucked at life, with school or any real sense of direction, I joined the club.  I was more than a little put off by the name, but… It’s a good house. Or rather, it _was_ a good house. Nowadays, I’m just waiting for my contract to expire so I can leave and go someplace else.” He picked up another beer and slice of pizza. “This pizza is incredible. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d rather be here. This was the best birthday treat I’ve had in three years,” he laughed, “And I’m getting paid to spend it with you, my adorable _teddybear_ , for the night.” He playfully crossed the space between them to wrap himself around Paul’s arm.

Paul blushed scarlet at the pet name and sudden close proximity, as Tigerlily basically had his head on his shoulder, chest on his upper arm, and Paul’s hand between his thighs.  Paul cleared his throat, nervously, “To-Today’s your birthday?  And you had to work? That sucks… How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-one today,” he smirked as Paul choked a little on his beer. “And you?”

“Thirty, but I feel like I’m forty,” he joked but didn’t laugh at the fact that he was close to a decade older than the man he was going to sleep with, vehemently pushed down the urge to touch the pretty man draped over his arm. “Sorry about not shaving the scruff before you got here, I rushed to clean the place and forgot to. I usually keep a shaved face by the way, but…” He could smell Tigerlily’s strawberry shampoo and feel the warmth coming off of his body, if he but turned his hand slightly he’d be touching Tigerlily’s crotch… He couldn’t help but admire the boy’s neck as he emptied the rest of the beer into his beautiful mouth. “Tigerlily?” Those bright-green eyes were on him again, lips still parted from the drink, a dark brow raised in question. “May I kiss you, please?”

A small smile graced Tigerlily’s lips as he went back into work mode, swinging his leg over Paul’s legs and straddling him. “Of course, do whatever you want. I’m all yours, remember?”

Paul couldn’t help but be visibly physically aroused by the movements and words of permission, but Tigerlily didn’t seem to care much as he fully sat himself over Paul’s lap now, gyrating his hips with the slightest movements.  Paul’s arms made they’re way around the slender waist as Tigerlily’s circled his neck, moving his body as close to Paul’s as possible.

Emery’s body shivered as Paul’s hands found his hips.  He leaned forward, gently caressing Paul’s lips with his own, surprised to feel his body stirring at the contact.

Paul thought he could die and go to heaven quite happily in this moment, as Tigerlily’s wonderful, soft lips brushed his.  He lost control, and pulled the hips firmer against him still as he devoured the pliant mouth before him.

Emery moaned into the deepening kiss, fingers slipping into Paul’s shortly cut curls, as the man’s tongue found it’s way into his happy mouth, tickling the roof, and attacking his pierced tongue.  He tried to pull back slightly, in surprise, as electric shock after electric shock cursed through his body from his lips to pool in his groin.  Anyone, john or no had never kissed him like this before, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

Paul was sure that if he didn’t stop this kiss soon, he’d either end up suffocating them both or blowing a load in his sweatpants. 

But seeing the ravished look on Tigerlily’s face, eyes clouded with lust, mouth red from the assault done to those pretty lips… He kissed Tigerlily again, yet softer this time, savoring the feel and taste, giving the boy’s mouth room to let the surprisingly delicious moans escape, making them both harder.  Paul hadn’t kissed or been kissed like this in far too long.  Even before his ex-boyfriend Mark had left, he’d seldom experienced anything like this.

They finally broke for air again.  Tigerlily leaned back to rest on Paul’s thighs, still stroking the man’s tiny curls. “Emery,” he breathed out softly.

“What,” Paul whispered in a daze. “What was that?”

“My name. It’s Emery,” he answered, lips returning to graze against Paul’s.

“Emery,” Paul whispered back as once again he reclaimed Tigerlilly’s – no, _Emery’s_ – lips for another kiss. “I like it,” he muttered, unsure whether he meant the name or the kisses at that point.

 

When Paul opened that letter from his supervisor today, he’d had no idea his night would end up like this, with the most beautiful man in the world straddling his lap and letting him devour his face and enjoy it.  Or, at least, he seemed to be enjoying it.

He pulled away slightly, “Is this okay, Emery? If you don’t like it, I can stop if you want me to.”

“What… No, I like it. Gentle’s nice, but…” Emery sighed as Tigerlily returned, remembering why he was here and what he was supposed to be doing, “I’d be more comfortable lying down, and the couch is too small. Why not take me to your bedroom?”

“Okay, sure.” He got up after Emery, adjusting the obvious bulge in his sweatpants, and led the boy into his room—his messy room that he’d forgotten to clean earlier. “Sorry about all this,” he blushed. “Let me get this out of the way for you.”

“No, its okay. I’m only focused on you, babe. Tell me where you want me.”

Paul’s heart stopped as Emery’s shirt hit the floor, along with the too tight jeans, leaving him in only the collar around his neck and the tiniest thong… he forgot to hide his bulge now as he took in Emery’s body.

Tigerlily smirked, “You see something you like, big boy? Should I take this off, or would you like to do that yourself?” He pulled the g-string down lower over one hip, exposing more skin with just the tug of the string. “Well?  Where do you want me?  On the bed under the covers or over them?  On the floor?  Up against the wall?” He stretched out over the edge of the bed, legs open, hair spread out around his face.

Paul swallowed hard, thinking he was dreaming, but the embarrassing burp that escaped his lips brought him back. Tigerlily giggled, the smile returning to make Paul ache even more. 

Clearly crossing the threshold into his bedroom meant that ‘talk-and-eat’ time was over, and now it was time for business. Paul’s cock tried desperately to move him forward, towards the prize, to burst out of his pants and into… But he couldn’t do that, not yet.  He swallowed again nervously, and took a deep breath.

Emery grew restless and sat up again. “Paul?  It’s okay, you know?  I’m ready, so… Isn’t this what you want?” Emery suddenly felt very small on the large bed, unsure what to do in this unfamiliar situation, where it wasn’t clear what his client wanted or who was in control of this.  Paul continued to stare at him as if he wanted to eat him alive, but wasn’t moving, as if something was wrong. “Paul?”


	3. Chapter 3

_This is wrong_ , Paul thought, as he watched Emery’s seductive eyes turn wary and self-conscious. He looked even younger now as he sat there, waiting to become a sex toy at Paul’s will.  He was bound here by money; money that he wouldn’t receive until Paul was finished using him, and Paul, like the rest of Emery’s clients, wouldn’t be expected to pay anything until after the deed was done…

This was wrong.  Emery had a name, a family, and a life.  He wasn’t a toy, he was a human being that expected every man to treat him horribly.  And why?  It didn’t make any sense.  He was a sex worker who put himself out there for lonely schmucks like him to call on for sex.  Without people like Emery, those poor bastards would be cold and lonely for the rest of their lives.  If anything, they should be worshipping the ground this kid walked on, instead of treating him like dirt.

Paul knew instantly what he wanted and _had_ to do. “Everything’s fine, Emery.  I have an idea of what we could do that should be fun.”

“Oh yeah?” The smile returned as he lay back on the bed.

“Yeah… Stand up on the bed for me and take off your, um… _that_.  I’ll be right back.  Excuse me.” Paul hurried from the room and to the kitchen.

“Oookay?” Emery stood up on the bed as he was told, confused and a bit afraid.  The evening had been going well; surely Paul wouldn’t ignore all that and go into Jack The Ripper mode _now_?

Paul dug through his never-used pots and pans and found the large metal bowl he was looking for and filled it with ice cubes.  He’d seen someone do this before on a movie, although it was summer there, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to do this right… Oh well.  _The heat coming in through the radiator should melt the ice just fine_ , he thought as he made his more confident way back to the bedroom.

Only to freeze again as he saw Tigerlily – _Emery_ – standing fully naked and glowing on his bed waiting for him, hands at his side, covering or hiding nothing.

“What’s that for?” Emery asked, eyeing the ice skeptically.

“I wanted to give you an ice massage, if that’s okay?”

“ _Ice_ massage, in _February_?  Hmm,” he shrugged, “Okay.  What do I have to do?”

“Just relax, and tell me if you like it or want to stop,” Paul whispered, still staring as he placed the bowl on the bedside table, and sat on the bed near Emery’s feet.

Emery gasped as cold hands touched his ankles, trailing up his legs to his hips.  It felt surprisingly good in the heat of the room.  The hands traveled back down after Paul reached into the ice again to chill his hands.  They massaged his ankles, his calves, thighs, and onto his hips, purposefully avoiding his ass.  It surprised Emery how hot the massage was making him… Feeling Paul’s deep breaths on the back of his legs sent goose bumps over his shoulders and back, put a blush on his cheeks that even sex itself hadn’t been able to accomplish in years.  He didn’t know what to think of any of this.  Paul obviously wasn’t shy or inexperienced at all with the naked body and was unknotting and untangling all the kinks and aches in his hips, his lower back…

Suddenly, Paul’s soft lips joined his hands, kissing and gently nipping at his hips and inner thighs.

“How do you feel,” Paul whispered against a trembling thigh, resisting the urge to bite, suddenly understanding why most men wouldn’t hesitate at that.  Emery’s skin was soft and looked delicious enough to eat, and smelt like candy.

And the small moans he couldn’t hold back when Paul finally touched him there…

Emery thought he would die.  Even after all the calls he’d gotten today, and the solo session back at the house, his body stirred quickly.  And when Paul’s hands went between his thighs to his cock…

As Paul’s lips caressed his ass…

“Paul,” he heard Emery sigh.  He drew back, “Are you okay?”

He tried to think past the sensations, but could only gasp, “I… All of this… You don’t have to…”

“But I want to, as long as you like it.” He gently tugged on Emery’s arm to get him to sit on the bed and lay on his back against the pillows. “Are you comfortable?”

“You’re a very strange man, Paul, interesting, but strange,” Emery whispered with furrowed brows, mind still trying to tell him that this was a trap.

“Why,” Paul asked, plucking a piece of ice out of the bowl to massage it over Emery’s collarbone. “Don’t you like being touched?”

He gasped at the cold touch at the hollow of his neck, just below his collar.  “Why are you doing all of this?  You’re paying me, you don’t have to do anything for me.”

“I want to,” he shrugged, circling a nipple with the melting ice cube, bringing a louder moan past Emery’s lips as his hands clutched the sheet beneath him. “Why do you have to wear a collar?”

Emery shivered, “It’s… It’s mandatory… Part of the look of the club, I guess.  It takes away the last element of humanity, maybe…” He was running his mouth again. “Paul, you don’t need to do this for me,” he breathed out, barely able to speak.

Paul stopped. “Do you mind if I take it off?” Before Emery could answer, he reached for the tricky clasp in the back of his neck.  He fumbled with it for a minute, but finally got it loose and dropped it on the table nearby. “And if you don’t want this, that’s fine.  I’m doing this for myself, then.  So just enjoy it,” he whispered, slipping the ice cube into Emery’s mouth before retrieving another piece to circle his other nipple, down to his navel. “Do you really like this?” The constant moans coming from behind the hand Emery used to cover his mouth seemed too good to be true.

“You’re good at this,” Emery gasped, as the ice traveled below his navel. “Paul, no, just fuck me.  It’s okay, you don’t have to… to… Oh God, Paul!” His cock twitched as the cold water melting from the ice cube circled its crown and ran down into the scarce pubic hair around its base. “Please, Paul, it’s too much.  I… I don’t deserve this… I…”

Paul found it difficult for his mind to process that he was actually the one responsible for Emery’s reactions.  It was like the pinnacle of a wet dream, to be himself, be accepted, and by someone like Emery.  Even if it was all fake, he knew that when this was over, he’d be a different person after this experience. “You deserve this as much as the next person,” he whispered, reaching down to catch a drop of water running down Emery’s shaft with his tongue, lingering afterwards to kiss and nip the hard flesh there.

Emery knew at that moment that he should have just taken Paul’s money and left when it had been offered to him, knew know that he’d made a mistake.

Paul was nice; too nice, and he couldn’t handle that.  If only he’d been allowed to rest earlier, maybe he wouldn’t have been so tired, too tired to resist and stay behind his comfortable yet lonely wall.  Tears fell from his eyes even as his pleasure continued to peak.  He didn’t know how to accept Paul anymore; knew it would be a horrible idea to try, because Paul was nice.  Any measure of kindness or gentle love, however small, given to him by Paul would ruin his mentality.  How could he face another client after this and be okay with being treated badly?  His mind was too quickly losing that cold acceptance, too easily bending and molding to Paul’s soft and gentle will.

And then, as if reading his thoughts, Paul put the icing on the cake and devoured Emery’s resolve for good, slipping a tiny, melted ice cube past his balls and pushed it completely inside him as he came, making it melt in the heat of his body.

It was by far, the most beautiful thing Paul had ever seen, Emery blushing, back arched as he was pushed over the edge, cum shinning in little dollops over his stomach and thigh, eyes closed, mouth parted to take in air through shallow breaths, but the moment had been marred with tears and sobs as Paul put Tigerlily to rest and brought Emery up to a wonderful place he’d clearly forgotten existed in his young life.  It broke Paul’s heart to see this beautiful creature fighting so hard against what should have been common care, common pleasure meant to be shared between lovers, yet it only made Paul want to go further, to save every part of Emery from the dark and painful cage he’d been trapped in for so long.

Paul eased his way off the bed and to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean the boy off, avoiding for now the clouded, blurry green eyes that watched every move quietly, cautiously, as if waiting for the real Paul to surface and hurt him like the others, all for an expensive thrill. “How do you feel, Emery?”

When Emery didn’t speak or move, Paul simply put the cloth on the bedside table, next to the awful collar he secretly wanted to burn, and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, to stroke an arm or brush a strand of hair away from his view of those eyes.

“What are you going to do with me now,” the small voice was barely audible, but Paul caught it, along with the tone of someone who figured that his pleasure was up and now it was time to go back to hard work in order to repay it.

“You don’t owe me anything, Emery.  I told you, I did it for myself.  I enjoyed giving you pleasure,” Paul whispered, wishing that Emery could understand.

“But…” Emery simply gave up, shaking his head as his eyes left Paul’s, growing silent again.

They stayed that way for several minutes, thinking, until Paul finally spoke again, “Have you ever… Has _everyone_ you’ve been with treated you badly?”

“No, when I started out it was better, fun even, but… nowadays, most people think that, if they’re going to pay someone so much for sex, it might as well be worth their while, and that if I want to get paid, I can’t argue with that.  The system set up online is supposed to monitor that kind of stuff, but it doesn’t.  My pimp only weeds out the blatantly bad johns and ignores everyone else, so if someone says, ‘Let’s hang out,’ then I have to go.  And if when I get there, they want to… _do more_ , then I can’t argue with them, since the deal was taken care of by my pimp, and if I try to refuse…” he whispered around another quiet sob.

“Why do you stay there if they’re not taking care of you?”

“The contract’s binding; I can’t leave until it runs out… My tips are part of the contract.  They keep your tips and only give them to you when your contract’s up, but they bully you when the contracts about the end, and threaten to fire you and keep your tips unless you either kiss everybody’s ass or renew the contract for three more years.”

“But, you’ve been there for three years now today, isn’t your contract almost up?”

“My three year mark was up five months ago, actually.  I started when I was technically seventeen, but didn’t get paid until after my eighteenth birthday, “ he sighed, rolling over on his side to curl up around Paul’s leg.

“Why so young?”

Emery shrugged, wondering if he should go for details or just the short story.  He opted for the second, “Well, it was either signing on with _them_ , or living out on the streets _longer_ , or in teen shelters were all the other kids are conditioned to be good, Christian virgins who’ve only dreamed about sucking cock, so… Bottom-line, I had to get away from my family.  Nobody should have to turn tricks for their perverted older brother when they’re fifteen, besides, if I couldn’t keep the money, I’d make my own… on my own…

Paul sat closer to the curled up boy, “Why didn’t you leave the club, then, Emery?  You’re old enough to live on your own now, so why stay?”

Emery shrugged a shoulder again, “Nowhere else to go.  I’m not good at anything else, especially not anything that could get me the money I make now.  Not to mention I don’t respond well to bullying, especially when it can get you seriously hurt.”

Paul didn’t like the sound of that; it made him uneasy to think of someone like Emery having to continue doing this work for the rest of his life. “Emery… I know we don’t know each other, but is there anything I can do to help you get out?”

Something cold and distant flash across Emery’s eyes at the question, “Just tip well.  That’s all.” He bit his tongue, hating that he didn’t just take the offer. “Unless you want me to be your _private boy_ , then if you pay me well, I’ll leave there, and stay here for you.  You wouldn’t need another boy with me here at your beck and call.”

Paul looked into Emery’s eyes, judging his tone. Emery was being serious. “Well, as nice as that sounds, I’d rather help in some other way, like… I dunno, maybe find a fashion-modeling job for you, or help you get into college?  You’re twenty-one, for Christ’s sake, you shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Would you be so attracted to me if I were older?”

Paul met Emery’s eyes, “Yes, I would.  Emery, I lo—I _care_ about you, a lot.”

Emery sat up behind Paul, resting his head on the man’s shoulder, hiding from those brown eyes, “Of course you, do, Paulie.  It means I’m doing a good job… Making men open they’re hearts to me is what I’m paid to do, _that’s_ what I’m good at… When you’re done playing my lover, and I’ve gone back to the house with my money, you’ll forget all of this and get on with your life.  Maybe you’ll call me again, maybe not, but either way, it can’t change anything.  Tomorrow, I’ll be back with my old clients… Will you be there with ice to massage my new bruises and aches?  Will you be able to take care of me then?” Emery didn’t want to say these things, but had to, in order to keep this work going. “Will you save me then, Paul?”

“No, I can’t,” Paul sighed.

“I didn’t think so,” Emery whispered, still hiding behind Paul.

Suddenly Paul stood, unable to accept this hopelessness.  He turned around, staring Emery in the eye with a stern look.

“Paulie?” _What the hell is he doing?_

“I may not be able to save you tomorrow, but I _can_ save you tonight.” Without warning, Paul was over Emery, attacking his lips again.  He kissed Emery with the fiery passion he’d had on the couch, feeling Emery’s tense body relax like clockwork again, and respond.  He held Emery’s face in his large hands, “I can’t give up on you, Emery,” he whispered, “I love you… I know that sounds crazy, but… I don’t care.  Please, Emery, let me love you, at least just for the night.

The tears returned, “Paul, you can’t… Don’t say those things, please,” he shook his head, pleading, gently pushing Paul’s hands away.  He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to say no.  He’d had plenty of men say that they loved him, wanted to rescue him, and he’d let them keep their fantasy so long as he got paid and they were satisfied for the night.  So why was he stopping Paul from enjoying that fantasy now?

Because he knew as Paul hovered over him, kissing him again, that Paul wasn’t faking, that he’d meant every word.  And the worst part was that Emery wanted to feel the same towards Paul, this man that he’d only known for two hours, yet had treated him so fairly, so perfectly, more than the people he’d known his whole life.  He was romantic and sweet, and more handsome than most of the men he worked and slept with everyday, with those deep, rich brown eyes, short, soft curls, and large belly that seemed strangely cute to him.

Emery opened his eyes, coming out of his thoughts, as he realized Paul was no longer on top of him, kissing him silly. “Paul?”

“Emery, I… You’re so beautiful.  I want to…” Paul’s self-consciousness came back with full force, as he looked at Emery, completely naked, bare and beautiful before him, while he himself was still fully clothed and hiding. “Emery, I want to… but…”

Emery actually smiled again, rising off the bed and towards him, wrapping his arms around Paul’s wide waist in a hug. “Whatever you want,” he whispered.  Paul was still hesitating. “Need help, teddybear?”

Paul laughed nervously, “Yeah… It’s been a while since I’ve… You know.  Things have changed since then.  For one, I wasn’t a pig then—”

“You aren’t a pig.  You’re a man, and cute,” Emery teased, poking Paul’s stomach. “I want you, Paulie.  I want you to make love to me like you said, but I’m not going to let you touch me until you’re as bare as me, okay?” His hands trailed to the hem of Paul’s shirt and began lifting it up.

“Just warning you, you’ll like me better with my clothes on and the lights off,” Paul muttered.

Emery ignored him and pulled the shirt completely off with a smile, “You’ve got hair everywhere,” Emery cooed. “You _are_ my teddybear after all!”

“You like it,” Paul blushed, flinching and smiling from Emery’s tickling hands.

“Yes, I do.  It suits you, Paulie,” he kissed a nipple, making Paul shiver before stepping back to kneel in front of him to remove his pants. 

Seeing Emery kneeling, face only inches away from his groin, made him unapologetically hard again.  Emery didn’t hesitate to run his hands over the bulge before taking the pants off, eyes glowing with lust as the tip of his cock poked through the slit in his boxers.

Emery nipped at his belly, “See?  There’s nothing wrong with you.  There’s plenty of flesh on you for me to love,” he quickly caught himself, “I’d love to have you over me…” The tip of his tongue came out to meet Paul’s cock.

“Oh my God, Emery,” he whispered, balling his hands into fists to stop from fisting them in Emery’s beautiful hair.

Emery felt him holding back, “Go ahead, I’m yours for the night, remember?  Now _you_ relax.” Without another word, Emery pulled the boxers to Paul’s ankles and wrapped his lips around his cock, turning Paul’s world upside down in an instant.


	4. Chapter 4

Paul saw spots.  Big black ones, dancing across his vision here and there as, for the first time in his life, let alone the five celibate years, he was getting blown by a true professional.  Fireworks went off nonstop in his groin, made his heart do back flips…

And then his entire cock went into Emery’s mouth, and he could no longer see the boy over his belly, but without a doubt he felt him there, Emery’s perfect nose brushing against his too thick pubes, as he continued to swallow him whole down his perfect, tight throat.

“Holy, holy shit, Emery… That’s… Holy shit…” His hands slipped into soft locks of hair to massage Emery’s scalp.

Then Emery did, what was in Paul’s mind, the worst thing he could do at that point; he stopped and pulled away. “What’s wrong, teddybear?  Want me to stop?  I’m sure you’d rather I stop, right,” he maliciously teased, while kissing Paul’s thighs.

Paul was astounded, and couldn’t take it anymore.  His hand gripped Emery’s hair and pulled to get his attention, “Emery, you… I swear, if you stop, I’ll… I have no idea what I’ll do!  Just… _Please, keep going!_ ”

Emery smirked with triumph, “As you wish, teddybear,” and went back to work with a vengeance.  He’d never felt this comfortable sucking cock before, even after doing it hundreds of times a week; it’d always felt so… dirty, and dangerous, considering most of the people who asked for it were jerks who wanted to choke the life out of him with their ‘manhood.’  _But this isn’t someone else, this is my teddybear’s cock_ , he reminded himself, unable to keep the smile off his face, his eyes closed, unable to see over Paul’s stomach, but he could hear him perfectly, that masculine, accomplished voice that made Emery feel like he was finally with a real man, as his own moans couldn’t help but escape as he pulled back for air, licking up the precum from Paul’s crown.

He could feel Paul about to cum and hesitated, unsure of how he wanted this to end.  He couldn’t just let Paul come down his throat, it was against the rules, and as much as he trusted Paul, he couldn’t be too safe.  This was his livelihood after all, and he couldn’t fuck that up.  And Emery hated people cumming on his face.  _Anywhere_.  And yet, that wasn’t against the rules and people abused that privilege without restraint.  But this was Paul… What should he—”

“Fuck, Emery, stop!! Please, I’m going to… Can’t… Stop!”

Emery pulled away quickly, fearing the worst and was confused when Paul hurriedly began trotting back and forth across the room. “Paul?  What’s wrong?”

“Sorry… That was close…” He took a deep breath, then another, “Emery, that was the best… of my entire life, but… I had stop, before…” he tried to explain, still out of breath. “I didn’t want to cum that way, I want to… you know.  And plus… I’ve let myself go; I’m not entirely sure what that’s done to my body… and I’d rather not find out the hard way that I can only cum once now, so…”

Emery sat back on the bed, “Hmm… Well, that makes sense.” He waited for Paul to regroup and calm down his pleasure to a manageable height, as he reached over to the bedside table to look for lube in one of its drawers, certain it would be there. “Hey, Paul?  Where’s your lube?”

“Huh,” he asked, distracted, still trying to stop the tingles running through his body. “What was that?”

“Oh, never mind, I found…” Emery grew eerily quiet behind him.

The question, and response, sunk in Paul’s head a little too late. _Oh shit._

Paul spun around, completely sobered and aroused all the more as Emery held his bottle of lube and little, blue bullet vibrator in his hands.  He was mortified at the thought of Emery finding it, suddenly ashamed to have him see how terribly alone he was, but at the same time, couldn’t get the image of torturing Emery’s sexy, little hole with it for hours out of his head.  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, um… Yup, you found it,” his voice cracked a little.

Emery giggled and whispered, “I bet your little vibe and my little vibe would make great friends,” he smirked.

Before Paul could respond, Emery put the little bulb in his mouth and sucked on it like a piece of hard candy, then brought it between his open legs and pushed it inside of him with a faint intake of air.

Paul could only stare, awestruck and horny as hell as Emery pushed it in with ease, then turned the dial on the remote it was attached to, writhing and moaning louder than ever as the unanticipated force of the vibrations shook him to the core.

He kept his eyes opened, focused on Paul, using them to beg the man to join him on the comfy bed, as he pleasured himself under Paul’s gaze. “ _Mmm_ … Oh yes, that’s… that’s _so good!_   Please, Paulie, I… I think your… your bullet wants… to kill me,” he moaned around his teasing words, “Save me?  Please?”

Paul thought he would melt through the floor, or evaporate through the ceiling at the sight of Emery getting off so shamelessly with _his_ vibrator.

“Paul, please… Not enough… Need you… _here_ ,” Emery’s gasps and moans rung, brightly like a flame, and Paul was his moth.

“What’s wrong, Emery, need help,” he taunted, taking the remote out of Emery’s tight grasp and turned the dial all the way up, before opening the shivering boy’s legs to sit between them.  His hands massaged Emery’s chest, his arms, legs, stroked his hair…

Emery was losing control fast, sure he would come again very soon.  He didn’t want to do it alone.  Paul was near, his large hands sending extra fuel to the flame, but he wasn’t near enough.  Blindly grabbing for Paul, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, he pulled the man over him to hold on for dear life as his second orgasm sent electricity through his body and fried his brain.

He could feel Paul move in his haze, lifting his leg over his shoulder, spreading him wider.  Soft kisses touched his turned cheek, the corner of his mouth, his neck and shoulders.  Emery felt like he was dreaming, floating somewhere in another life, where he was in college, _somewhere_ , where he wasn’t working now, but with his lover.

The bullet was gently removed and replaced by a lube-slicked finger.  He’d prepared himself before he got here – a mandatory necessity for working this job with the type of clients he got.  Even still, Paul continued to gently open him up, to make sure he was still properly prepared and ready.  Emery couldn’t recall a time when he’d gotten so much pleasure for being touched like this, and he shied away from the negative thoughts about old lovers and clients being rough and impatient, and focused simply on the intimacy Paul was freely giving him now, rocking his hips slightly to the rhythm of Paul’s touches, as the man slipped in another finger, then another…

“How does that feel?  Are you okay,” Paul whispered, withdrawing the moist digits, reaching for a condom out of Emery’s pants pocket on the floor under the bed.

“That was great, Paul,” he whispered back, suddenly feeling empty without Paul so near anymore. “Please, Paul, take me.  I need you,” he breathed, spreading his legs as far as he could, welcoming Paul to come in between them.  Goosebumps rose over his arms as Paul lightly touched him again, before claiming his spot over him.

Paul’s heart was beating out of his chest as he hovered over Emery, arms propping him up, his belly grazing against Emery’s flat tummy.  This was it; he was going to be in Emery’s beautiful body very, very soon. “I need you too, Emery.  I’ve needed you my whole life.”

Emery looked up to see serious, dark brown eyes staring back at him, and his heart stopped for a moment.  “Well, now you have me,” Emery couldn’t fight it anymore, Paul was for real, and Emery was going to savor this, savor the love for as long as he could.  He reached a shaky, excited hand down to find Paul’s cock, guiding it to that hidden place.

When Paul felt Emery touch him his heart calmed to a reasonable pace.  He took a deep breath and carefully pushed forward.  Emery’s soft body opened with ease as his crown breached the ring of tight muscle. “Oh God, Emery, yes,” Paul moaned as his cock continued to sink further into wonderful heat.  He opened his eyes and saw Emery glowing, blushed cheeks, a quiet moan escaping his lips, nipples hard with pleasure, hands gripping Paul’s arms for support as Paul eased in to the base.

Emery’s body never felt this good and whole in his life.  Every other sexual experience was removed and replace by this simple act of easing in for the first time, and it as only going to get better from here.  He tried to move his hips to get Paul to start moving again, but with Paul fully immersed in him now, his weight was keeping Emery pinned in place.  Strangely enough, it only made him hotter and want to have Paul take him more, the lack of freedom, being pinned beneath this man as he took his pleasure, like so many before him, yet so different, so new. “So good, you feel so… so perfect, Paul, my teddybear.  Please, Paul, I need you.  It’s okay, just move,” he panted, reveling in the feel of Paul finally moving, in deep, slow thrusts that had him seeing spots behind his eyes, lovely spots that told him his mind was as elated as his body now.

Paul couldn’t conceive of ever knowing anything this right in his life, and ever knowing it again, if not with this perfect boy.  Emery’s body sucked him in and out as his thrust grew more powerful, as the pleasure intensified, his moans intertwining with Emery’s as easily as their bodies did.  A thought nagged at the back of his mind, as a momentary spark of reality set in and he realized most of his weight should be crushing Emery beneath him. He hesitated in his movements, “Em… Emery… are you okay?  Am I… too heavy for you?”

Emery’s lust-filled green eyes opened to see Paul, loving the sight of the man over him, pleasuring him so deeply, “ _Mmmm_ , I… I’m fine… Keep moving… please.”

Paul happily complied, loving the new sensations as he pushed harder.  However, he knew he should be careful, especially as his mind continued to tumble into straight lust.  He needed to make sure he didn’t kill Emery in the fog of his passions.  He wrapped his arms under Emery and lifted him onto his lap.

Emery’s eyes shot open as he landed on Paul’s lap, fully impaled now, as Paul directly hit his prostate on his up thrusts, sending him into a frenzy. “ _Mm_!!  Paul… Paulie… harder… _mmm_ … so good, Paul… yes!  Oh, I love what you do to me.”

Paul devoured Emery’s nipples like bits of hard candy, hands gripping his perfect ass, lifting and pushing him down to meet his thrust, as Emery wrapped his arms around Paul’s neck again, fingers laced in his short curls, green eyes locked with brown as their foreheads touched, as they kissed and feed off of each other’s air, bodies as close as possible to soak in everything about this love making, as if they really were true lovers.

In this moment, in their minds, they were.  In this moment nothing and no one else mattered.  They were whole. 

“ _Mmm_. That’s it… Hit it harder… Your spot… It belongs to you… you found it… it’s yours… _yes_!” Emery knew he was speaking words full of truth even in the midst of his babbling haze.  That was it, he’d truly found something perfect in Paul.  He didn’t want this moment to ever end, afraid of what waited for him outside Paul’s door, when the collar went back on.  He wanted to stay here in this room forever, with Paul.

But as fate would have it, his body had other plans as his nerves began to tingle and his heartbeat sped up, signaling that he was close to finishing.  _Oh God, please don’t let this end, I need to save this moment, please don’t let this be over, not now._   But he couldn’t hold on any longer as Paul, too, was getting close and thrust deeper, faster until Emery’s body couldn’t take it anymore.

Their arms tightened around each other as their bodies tumbled over the edge into climax, Emery tossed his head back in a silent cry, toes curling behind Paul’s back, as Paul buried his face in the raven’s neck inhaling strawberries as Emery’s body spasmed around him, pulling his orgasm out of his body, until it was finally over, and they collapsed back onto the bed in a daze.

Emery was released from Paul’s arms to lay back in the soft pillows, panting, body still tingling from the aftershocks as Paul pulled out, leaving him feeling empty again.  It was odd, he’d never had sex with anyone without a condom, always petrified at the thought of STDs, but in this moment, as he cracked an eye open in time to see Paul tie up the rubber and throw it away, he’d wished he’d left his condoms at home, at least then, when he left and went back to his other world, he’d still have a part of Paul with him, but… Rules were rules, and his boss had ways of knowing when one of his boys was barebacking, and Emery needed this job.  He closed his eyes, shoving away such grim thoughts to focus back on Paul as he lay down beside him.  He quickly lay his head on Paul chest, stopping for a kiss on the way, closing his eyes to hear the beat of the man’s heart, to feel the rise and fall of his chest as Paul breathed.

They stayed there, in silent thought for a long time, both unsure of what was supposed to happen now that sex was over.  Paul stared up at the ceiling, listening to Emery’s quiet breaths as they tickled his chest, holding his own breath in the hope that, if he was still enough, Emery might fall asleep and maybe stay the night with him. 

Maybe he could talk to Emery’s boss tomorrow morning to arrange, like Emery suggested, to have him be solely in Paul’s employ?  That sounded like a marvelous idea, Emery being able to stay with him, be taken care of, treated well, be loved, fed, and after Paul got him on his feet and into a good college, he could stop paying and he and Emery could really be boyfriends then… But that was impossible, especially since Paul didn’t exactly have a flowing income anymore, which he planned to fix in the morning.  _Who am I kidding?  I’m acting like he’d actually want to stay with me and give up his job, when he’d already said he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon… But I need him here with me, I really do love him, and I’ve only been with him for four hours!_

Paul sighed, frustrated and drifted off to sleep.

 

It was early morning when he woke the next day, arms and legs tangled with another warm body. It took Paul a while to wake up fully and remember the night before, and just who was in his bed.

Emery was such a wonderful person to wake up with, snuggled tight, looking angelic in his sleep.  It hurt Paul to think that this wasn’t permanent, that tomorrow he would wake up alone, as if this never happened.  Paul tried to ease back into sleep, to make this moment last longer, but all he could do was watch Emery sleeping soundly, safely.

Paul wondered about the life Emery had, wherever his home was.  Was it a safe place like this?  Did he sleep so comfortably there?  He imagined not, what with Emery’s sad stories from the night before. He sighed, feeling defeated that he couldn’t do anything for Emery but this.

Emery stirred from his deep sleep at the noise, “Paul,” he whispered, looking as groggy as he sounded, too cute as he yawned and stretched, snuggling in closer to Paul.

“Did you sleep well,” Paul asked back, disappointed in himself for ruining the moment.

“I slept?  Oh shit, it’s morning. I’m sorry, I had forgotten that I was so tired.” Emery placed little kisses on Paul’s soft and comfortable chest, “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.”

Emery sighed, crestfallen that he’d wasted all that time sleeping – even if was the best sleep he’d had in a long time – when he could have been awake, spending more time with Paul.

And now his time was up.

Paul’s heart sank as Emery untangled himself from his comfortable and warm embrace, moving around him to sit on the edge of the bed and find his clothes. “Are you leaving?”

“I have to. I’m not even supposed to stay overnight like this.”

“But, why?  Can’t you stay longer?  I could have a cab come get you in the evening?” Paul sat up to watch Emery hunt for his shirt and pants, giving up the search to find his underwear in the clutter of the room. 

“I’m sorry, teddybear, but I have a curfew.  They’ll come looking for my corpse if I’m not soon.  Plus…” he didn’t want to say, but, “I have some more work to do back at the house, so…” He had to reestablish their boundaries and roles as prostitute and john if he planned on going back to his real life and work, even if that reality hurt them both.  He turned away, pretending to look for his underwear again, even though his pants were already on, to avoid the heartbroken pain in Paul’s face as he too got redressed and took out his checkbook and wallet.

The check and substantial tip exchanged hands, and Emery quickly left the room to get his second shirt from the couch on his way to the door.

“Emery, wait, _please_ ,” Paul called after the retreating back, catching up to him as he put on his coat. 

Emery kept his head down to hide the tears in his eyes, unable to keep the façade up long enough to hide his own pain. “I have to go Paulie.  Goodbye.” He turned again to leave, but a strong arm caught him, turning him around to meet Paul’s last passionate kiss.  It would probably be the last kiss he’d ever have like this.  He held on, kissing back for as long as he could, wishing he could go back to bed with Paul and stay here forever.

Paul drew back, wiping away Emery’s tears. “I just… I wanted you to have this,” he shyly lifted up the green scarf he’d been holding. “It matches your eyes, and it’s cold outside, so… I want you to stay safe and healthy… You can have this.”

Emery smiled sadly, “It’s beautiful, thank you… teddybear.” He took it, wrapping it around his neck, loving that it smelt like Paul.  He rose up on tiptoes to kiss the man’s forehead, and ran his fingers through the short curls one last time. “This was the best night of my life.  Thank you for that,” he swallowed back his tears and kissed Paul softly before heading out the door, closing it quickly behind him.  He only made it down one flight of stairs before he collapsed into tears and sobs.

Paul stood in front of the door, staring at it for the longest time, praying that Emery needed that underwear and had to come back to find it.  Or maybe Emery would just quit and come back to really stay…

But the buzz on the intercom never sounded, there was no knock on his door.  Emery was really gone.  His whole life he had been searching and giving up, searching and giving up, to find his true love, and he’d been here, in his arms, kissing him on his couch, making love to him in his bed, but now he was gone again.  Gone back to that vile place he called home, to be made into a sex toy all over again.

Paul’s wary feet dragged him over to his couch, to sit and cry out his own tears at the greatest loss of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

Paul started out of his deep sleep with a jolt as the alarm clock screamed in his bedroom.  He looked around confused for a moment, wondering why he was asleep in his boxers on the couch, instead of in his comfy bed in the next room.

But then it all came back too quickly; he’d been fired in a letter from his boss, cleaned his apartment, then ordered a pizza and a prostitute and devoured them both.

He shot up from the couch, racing to the door, opening it quickly to look down the hall, but no one was there.  Emery was probably asleep somewhere in the city, with dozens of other young men in the club who were a short time away from being exploited and mistreated, or worse, already out on a job, already forgotten about Paul and his promises of love.

He sat back on the couch for a moment, taking in his current state.  He felt more alive now, so… _necessary_ now, all because Emery had wanted him last night.  He may not have told Paul that he loved him, but Paul knew it was there.  Now, it was gone, but Paul still felt like now, he had a fighting chance against the world.  That he could change his life for the better now and prosper in his love life as much as his work life.

But his heart weighed too heavy in his chest now for him to move to make that change just yet.  The empty beer cans and pizza boxes were still on the coffee table in front of him.  With a depressed sigh he got up again to throw them away, needing to get rid of the evidence of what happened last night, of anything that would remind him of Emery, even hiding his laptop and phonebook under the sofa so he couldn’t be tempted to find the boy, afraid of what would happen if he called him again and had to relive this pain all over again when it was time for the boy to leave.

He headed for his bedroom to go back to sleep, putting off job searching for another day when he wasn’t so lonely and miserable.

His heart stopped as he crossed the threshold, seeing his bed still unmade from the night before, the lube bottle lying in the center, his bullet vibrator on the bedside table…

Along with Emery’s black dog collar.

Paul rushed across the room quickly to hide it in a drawer along with the lube and toy, getting it out of sight, burying them under papers he shoved into the drawer on top of them.  He collapsed onto the bed, finding it hard to breathe as the scent of strawberries and candy filled his nose as he pulled his pillows close.  He reached behind him for the covers, but something else caught in his hand as he pulled them over him.

He lifted the piece of fabric from under the covers to look at it and choked.  It was Emery’s thin, black g-string.  Paul lost his last shred of control as the pain and loss overtook his body, wrecking him with sobs and screams, tossing and turning, suffocating, he felt his heart tear a little more each time that he closed his eyes and saw bright-green eyes shine with love and passion behind his eyelids.  

A part of him, a very large part of him, didn’t want to live anymore; it was too hard to try now, without a job, overweight and unhealthy, alone, with not even a cold shoulder to be turned on him by a coworker, or a boss to yell at him for getting the date wrong on a memo.  It was just Paul, with his sheets that smelt of young, sweet treats, a collar hidden away from sight, and a pair of underwear balled up in his fist, in this bed that was too big, and empty, and cold.

He cried until there were no more tears left in his body, and no more energy left to keep him awake.  He slept for the rest of the day.

 

Paul was awake ten minutes before the alarm clock went off again at eight-thirty the next morning, staring at his ceiling again, willing his mind not to think, but it was hopeless; he _had_ to get up today and go out, anything to keep his mind preoccupied and far away from green eyes and long black waves.  He got out of bed and headed for the shower in the next room, scrubbing away whatever remained of the kisses to his chest or the sweat of palms, with long, thin fingers that gripped his shoulders and arms as he…

He switched the water over to ice-cold to shut down those thoughts, but the coldness only made him think of ice cubes circling hard, pink nipples as the ice melted, or the trail of water left behind as it slid quickly down to the base of Emery’s…

Paul quickly exited the shower, toweled off and got dressed for the day.

He almost turned around and gave up at the thought of taking his laptop and phonebook out to search for job openings, but he had to if he wanted to escape this apartment.  _Okay_ , he thought, carefully flipping through the yellow pages, _where do I want to work now for another ten years before I get fired?_   He crossed out a few, circled a few more, until he had a good list of addresses to go to for on-sight interviews, printing off a good dozen resumes to take with him in his small briefcase.

By midday, as he returned to his apartment for lunch, he already had eight offers from sister companies of JKRP Accounting, but he still wasn’t satisfied.  He didn’t want to be working another basement job for the rest of his life, so he decided to keep looking.

The laptop and phonebook had been hidden again, but of course he needed them to search for more openings.  It was a painful process, as the page accidentally slipped to the Daddy’s Boys ad again and again as he flipped back and forth through the yellow pages, and the website’s URL popped up whenever he went to type in a web address for a job.

Finally, after hours of searching, he struck gold.

“A new law firm in Brooklyn needs a head accountant?  Check, please,” he murmured to himself, with a smile, finally feeling like he’d accomplished something today, as he quickly got on the phone to schedule a meeting for an interview.

 

* * *

 

At five o’clock in the evening, Paul was on the edge of his set, hands shaking, wondering if his taxi were only driving slow to piss him off.

And make him late for his date.

Paul had a date.  Paul had a date with a handsome brunette intern that worked at the law firm, just like he did, now that he got the job.

It was like something out of dream, the tall, slim man with brood shoulders hurried after Paul as he went outside to catch his cab, wishing him well on his new job, offering his phone number and asking Paul out to a fancy restaurant downtown.  At first, Paul thought the man was joking, there was no way this guy could be serious, but he was, as he reached up to plant a kiss on Paul’s cheek before hurrying back into the building.

And now, if this taxi drove any slower, he would kill himself.

 _I should have taken the subway._   He almost lunged out of the car before it came to a stop in front of his building.  He hurried to the elevator in a slow run, a feat that had not been accomplished in the last three years.  He buzzed by the laptop, the phonebook, and his bed that still smelt of strawberries and candy.  _I should wash those when I come back._   His mind quickly amended, _I should change them now just in case Dan wants to come back for drinks, or…_ Paul was giddy with excitement.  He wouldn’t have to pay for anyone’s sex tonight, wouldn’t have to worry his mind with false loves, or the threat of having to never see this man again.  Sure, Dan was plain and seemed like he’d be a bit lacking in personality without his looks, but it was a start, and Paul couldn’t be choosey.  Tonight was going to be great.

Dan was at the restaurant early, waiting at their table making drink orders when Paul arrived. “Sorry I’m late,” Paul huffed, trying to catch his breath quietly and not draw attention to the fact his chest has heaving just rushing from the cab into the restaurant.

Dan smiled, “That’s fine.  I already ordered drinks, if that’s okay.  A man has to do things quickly here, get the good waiters early or risk having to deal with the new girl that’s a total bimbo and can’t take down orders correctly,” he laughed in his mature, twenty-something year old voice. “So tell me some stuff about you, Paul.  You obviously don’t work out – which we’ll take care of – so what do you do on your free time?  Any hobbies?  I personally enjoy going to the sauna after golf with some of the senior members upstate.  It’s boring, but I figure if they get to, you know, _‘like me’_ then I’ll have a job there in no time.  I know _your_ salary is huge, but can you imagine _theirs_?”

Paul had to stop himself from letting his mouth fall open on the table.  Dan never stopped talking, just asked and answered his own questions, only ever pausing to down another glass of champagne, or to nitpick their waiter’s performance in getting their food to them on time.  But Paul sat quietly, nodding his head at the appropriate moments and enjoying his meal.  _So what if he’s unhappy with your weight, neither are you, and yes, he is basically trying to pimp himself into a job, so what?  It is a start, and he_ is _pretty good looking in this light._  Paul finished his own glass, turning down the waiter’s offer for more.

“Oh come on, _Paulie_ , what’s wrong with a little alcohol,” Dan teased, giving the waiter a funny look as he walked away with their empty glasses.

 _Paulie_.  Suddenly all Paul could hear in his head were Emery’s quiet moans as he called him that, _Paulie_.  It sounded so good coming from Emery’s lips.  _Paulie… more… please…_

“Paul, _hello_?  Are you still with me, Paulie,” Dan smirked, running his leg up Paul’s as he tried to get his attention. “I think you might need more champagne, sweetheart.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, it’s just… Nothing,” he laughed nervously, “So what were you telling me about your professors?”

“ _Well_ , I was talking about how my theology professor tried to _flunk_ me because I wouldn’t have sex with him.  Can you imagine the _nerve_ of that man?  I mean, what do I look like, a _whore_?” He laughed loudly, sipping his champagne as he pointed to a couple at another table. “Do I honestly look anything like _that_ kid?”

Paul turned slightly to see whom Dan was talking about.  His heart stopped.

The situation was blatantly obvious; the blonde teenaged boy was clearly not the large, obese man’s boyfriend who was sitting across from him, feeding the smiling boy grapes.  The smiles, the gestures, the posture, were all familiar to Paul; this had to be one of Emery’s coworkers.

Saying the name made his heart ache tremendously.  _Emery… where are you?  Why can’t you be here instead?_

“Paul,” Dan poked Paul’s chest from across the table, smirking, “Want me to buy you a pretty, little whore like that one?  That kid’s probably so doped up he wouldn’t even care who fucked him.” Dan shivered with disgust. “That’s so gross, selling your ass for cash to gross old men?  I couldn’t imagine it, I’d kill myself if I ever had to stoop that low, I mean, _Eww_ … We should call the police and get them both sent to jail, you know that kid’s not old enough for alcohol and you know that guy’s going to fuck the shit out of that kid's ass in like… _an_ _hour_.” Dan shook his head and finished his glass, “I couldn’t imagine.”

“Is it any different from the shit you do,” Paul snapped, ignoring Dan’s foul expression, “Aren’t you ‘selling your _own_ ass’ now, at the golf clubs and saunas with ‘gross old men?’  You make it seem like people like that have a choice both ways.  If that kid had better options, don’t you think he would have taken them?  If that guy had someone in his life to love, talk to, take out to dinner, or… to ‘fuck the shit out of,’ then do you think he would still pay for sex?  They’re probably both so desperate to survive their own lives that they have to do this to one another.  That guy isn’t treating the boy bad, and he’s probably going to pay way more for him just because the boy is smiling at him, or just enjoying the evening with him.  You’ve sat here and bragged all night about how you never had to work to get anywhere, that you basically fucked your way to top, but yet what the kid’s doing is wrong and gross?  _I_ ‘couldn’t imagine’ that bullshit making sense to anyone else but you.  _Good night_.” Paul left Dan staring in utter shock as he turned his back and left the table, hands shaking as he collected his coat and went to stand outside for a taxi.

 _What the hell did I just do?  You know what you did, Paul, you told an asshole to go fuck himself just like he deserves.  That bastard.  How can you be a lawyer and be that dumb at the same time.  And have the nerve to call that poor kid a whore.  This whole date was probably just Dan stretching out the last of his resources by even banging the accountant to get a job._ Paul shook his head, processing the conversation, yet avoiding the thoughts that came up as to why he’d said anything at all.  _This_ was going to be his night, he was going to hang out, have good sex, and then go on having a good week, but he fucked it up, all because of bright-green eyes and long, black hair.

 _Emery_.  He shook his head again as he got into the backseat of his cab.

He had not changed the bed sheets before he left, hadn’t even made the bed, knowing subconsciously that he wasn’t going home tonight with anyone, that the only person he’d ever want to go home with ever again, was gone from his life now, and the only way to bring him back was to open that laptop and meet him again.

 _No.  I can’t.  Stop being such an idiot Paul_.  He sunk down in his couch in front of the TV in his sweatpants and undershirt now, the laptop staring at him from the coffee table.  Watching porn was useless, watching the news was even worse, and watching the sports and history channels were equally a waste of his time.  But all he had was time, time to go to work and then time to wait for old age and death to overtake him…

He turned off the TV as his stomach growled.  _No pizza and beer.  Chinese food and water would do it for tonight,_ he thought, picking the number off the speed dial on his phone, then changing his mind again.  He needed Emery; that was the end of it. 

He simply could not do anything without thinking about that boy, wondering where he was, and if he was being taken care of or not.  Wondering if Emery were thinking about him too…

He looked at the laptop again, his heart tugging him towards it, but he couldn’t.  Emery wasn’t interested in him, if he was, he could have called, maybe even stopped by on his… _free_ time?  He knew where Paul lived, so… _Maybe Emery was in trouble?  He’d left his collar here, which probably meant that he’d gotten into some really big trouble._   _Maybe I should call and just see if he’s okay, nothing more.  I’ll just say hello, ask how he’s doing, then say goodbye._  

But Paul knew he couldn’t do that.  Emery would be back over here and in his bed before the website loaded, and gone again from his life within the hour… He couldn’t do that to himself again. 

 _Where are you, Emery?_   _I miss you so much, I can’t breathe…_ He sighed, getting up to put the laptop away and went into his bedroom to roll up in candy scented sheets to sleep away the rest of the night, no dinner, no movie, no memories of lost love to give him more pain tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

_It had been the worst night of his life…_

“No, please, I can’t take anymore!  Please stop,” Emery pleaded through uncontrollable sobs as john-one and john-two failed at their second attempt to double-penetrate him. “It hurts, stop!”

“Shut up, slut, you can take it,” john-one argued beneath him, holding his arms in place. “Just push in faster this time, Al, you won’t break him.”

“How many times have you been fucked today, Tigerlily,” john-two teased, pushing Emery’s legs open wider again, shoving his and the other man’s cock further into him, ignoring Emery’s screams as he pushed them in to the hilt. “Fuck he is really, really tight!”

“No, no, not like this!  Please, you don’t understand!  I can’t take it, please stop!”

“What’s the matter, Tigerlily, you can’t handle real men anymore,” john-three returned from the hotel bathroom with a smirk, “That’s too bad, we certainly are paying you enough for you to take care of the three of us, aren’t we?”

Emery continued to sob, praying that their thrusts would stay at the current slow pace, praying that he could take it, because if he couldn’t and they didn’t stop, he’d be in trouble fast.

“Hey, Terry, come and get a piece of this,” John-one grunted behind Emery’s ear, trying to push in faster, as john-two raced to meet his speed above Emery, holding his legs at bay.  Before Emery could adjust to the pace, john-three straddle his chest, crouching between him and john-two with another smirk, before grabbing Emery’s throat and shoving his cock in his mouth, gripping his hair.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t yell anymore.  He was trapped.  Pain shot up his spine in never-ending jolts, as he choked on his own saliva and tears.  He didn’t know what to do; if he panicked he’d only hurt himself.  He couldn’t do anything but wait for this to be over so he could leave and beg Ricky to never give him a job like this ever again.

The pace of all three men increased, making Emery see spots, big ugly black ones that clouded his vision and cursed at him for not finding the time to eat and get some thread of strength and energy to survive this, and for not getting out of this job, this life, when he’d had the chance.

But if he had gotten out, would he have ever known Paul?  No.  Paul was sweet and lovely, and shouldn’t have to put up with someone as dirty as Emery was now.  He would have been glad to have never met that man, maybe if he hadn’t, he’d be prepared for this torture, but if he had never met Paul…

_Oh God, I don’t care if this ends badly, I just want Paul to call me again.  Just once, that’s all I ask, I need him so bad, I need—_

“Ah, shit, I’m going to cum!”

“Me too!”

“Slow down and wait for me, you two, just a few more minutes.  Get ready, slut, we’re going to turn you into the cum bucket you were put in this earth to be,” john-three grunted, moving faster.

“No way, Terry, if we do that, this bitch will get us kicked out of the club again.”

“Fine,” he growled, as he pulled out quickly to cum on Emery’s face.

Immediately after, the other two shouted as they came in the condom they shared.

Emery barely registered the pain that followed their quick removal from his battered body; he was already too hurt to care but thankful, as he glanced at the condom, he didn’t see any blood, which meant there was still hope for him to return to the house instead of the hospital… Hopefully he wouldn’t pass out before he got there…

 

His legs felt like lead as he climbed the last stairs to his dorm floor.  He didn’t care who was in the lounge tonight; he’d steal their food from the fridge right in front of them if he had to.  But the fridge was empty, even the bottles of water were all gone.

Emery’s stomach rumbled loudly, he’d been working straight through his breaks for the last three days, all thanks to Ricky booking him nonstop like he was a robot or something that didn’t require food or sleep.

He sat on his bed gingerly, ignoring the shivers that accompanied his shock and severe hunger, contemplating what he should do now.

He was _filthy_ , that was clearly obvious, but passing out in the shower wouldn’t be a smart idea.

He was _hungry_ , but there was no food here.

Emery slumped, at a loss.  _Maybe I should call Paul, myself?  I could give him the address to a place nearby and he could pick me up?  No.  I can’t do that to him.  I’m sure he’s already forgotten about me…I mean, it’s been three days and he hasn’t even… Well, what do you expect?  He was a client, he is not your boyfriend, so stop acting like his is!_

Emery’s phone vibrated in his pocket. “If it’s a text from Ricky, I can’t take it; not anymore tonight.”

It was Ricky, but thankfully it said nothing about work, but to meet him in his office to talk. “Give me a break, you asshole, I’m not falling for that one anymore.” A visit to Ricky’s office meant only more pain and more pictures to be posted online so the customers could treat him even worse. “Shower, it is, then.”

He took off his jacket and headed towards the elevator to take him up to the shower room, no longer willing to climb any more stairs, but when he turned the corner, he wished he had. _Fuck._

“ _Well_ , look who it is.  I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten my text or not, so I was on my way to pay you a visit.  You look like hell, Emmy, is something wrong?”

Emery could feel his lip twitch with anger, but got his temper under as much control as possible, knowing that if he were to go with his gut and punch Ricky in the face, he’d get fired and be on the streets tonight and still without a shower.

“Are you _frowning_ a me, Emmy?  _Why_?  What did _I_ do,” Ricky asked innocently, placing a stronger, muscled arm around Emery’s tired shoulders.  “Anything I can do to make it up to you, sweet lips,” he whispered in his ear, dropping his hand down to fondle Emery’s sore ass.

Emery snapped, pushing him away, “Ricky, if you don’t get the hell away from me in two seconds, I will kill you.  ‘Is there some wrong with me?’  Are you _kidding_ me!?  Were you not the very person whose been tormenting me for the past three days, nonstop?  First, it was bondage freaks, then it’s more rape fetishists, and then today, I got the poly _sadists_ that you know damn well you’re not supposed to be giving to any of us!  They were supposed to have been cut off and blocked six months ago for putting Angel in the fucking hospital, and yet you still gave them to me!?  What the hell is your deal, Ricky, I’m tired of this shit!  So if you’ll please excuse me, I just want to take a shower and go to sleep.  No more calls, no more solo sessions, I’m done.  _Period_.” His hands were shaking by the time he stopped talking.  He was seeing spots again, and that wasn’t good, especially not now.

Ricky’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise at Emery’s boldness, “You sure do have a mouth on you, huh?  If I were you, I’d keep that pretty, little mouth shut and be careful who you run it, too, especially since you’re getting careless with your job now,” He reached behind his back for something, making Emery nervous in his dizzy state, “Would you care to explain where _this_ came from?” He dangled the green scarf over Emery’s head, voice low and dripping with venom. “You know you’re not supposed to receive gifts and favors.  Who gave this to you?”

Emery’s skin paled.  Ricky _had_ to have gone snooping; he’d hid that scarf under his clothes, in the lockbox where he kept it wrapped around the half of the tips that he kept from his jobs, including all of the tip money from Paul, which meant… “Why did you do that?  Give it back,” he tried to grab the scarf, but the room was starting to tilt too much, “You have no right to do that, Ricky.”

“Oh, according to the contract you signed, I have every right, especially when the boss’s boys are keeping their tips from him.  And here I was this whole time, feeling sorry for you because your clients weren’t tipping you fairly, when you were just hiding half of them from me,” he growled. “Now who gave you this?”

“I… I don’t remember,” Emery shook his head, making his head hurt more.

“Oh, you don’t remember, do you?  Awe, that’s too bad, Emmy, but I bet I can help you remember.” Ricky pretended to think aloud, “Now, let’s see, the last time you had you collar was _before_ ‘Anonymous,’ correct?  Did he give you this in exchange for the collar, Emmy?”

At first Emery didn’t know what Ricky meant, but suddenly it clicked. _Oh shit._   His hand shot up to his neck, and sure enough, his collar was missing. “I can explain, it… it must have gotten broken, or maybe I took it off during a shower and forgot it somewhere.”

“ _Emmy, Emmy, Emmy_ , you stupid, little bitch, why would you lie to me?  To, _me_?  Your _friend_ ,” he shook his head in mocking disappointment. “Those collars are handmade to never break, with a clasp that’s damn near impossible for any of you whores to figure out on your own.  Now, would you like to revise your excuse or are you going to tell me the truth this time?”

Emery would have come up with a better excuse, but he froze up, not wanting to make Ricky even more pissed off.

Ricky smirked, baring his predator’s fangs. “Emery, come to my office, please.”

“No.” Emery tried to back away, but was blocked by the wall behind him.

“That wasn’t a request, _sweetheart_ , that was an order,” Ricky stated in a low, serious tone.  He stood in front of Emery, blocking his escape into the elevator as well. “Or are you going to give me lip about me giving you orders now, too?”

Emery sighed, feeling lightheaded, “Ricky, please, I’m sorry.  I’m not feeling well and I just want to go to bed.  I’m in a lot of pain right now and just want to sleep.  I’ll come by tomorrow, I promise,” he whispered, tears of exhaustion welling in his eyes as the room began to sway. “I promise, I’ll make it up you when I’m… I’m…” His world went black as he felt himself go under for a second, before regaining consciousness.

But it was in that single second of weakness that Ricky took the opportunity to pounce.  Emery felt muscled arms wrap around his waist and hoist him up against the wall. “Ricky?  What… are you… Stop,” he murmured, trying to get his brain to function properly.  His arms felt heavy and paralyzed with exhaustion, as he could no longer push Ricky away. “Stop… _please_!”

“What’s wrong, little Emmy,” Ricky cooed, as his hands pulled up Emery’s shirt and groped his chest.  He buried his face in Emery’s hair, breathing in deep the smell of strawberries that he’d been missing for far too long. “You know better than anyone not to let your guard down with me, especially after acting like such a frigid bitch to me lately.  But that’s okay, we’re going to make all that better now, aren’t we?” He ripped at Emery’s pants, popping off the button and pulling them to the floor and off Emery’s legs, before tearing off the simple thong, lifting the half-conscious boy up higher against the wall for more support as he unbuckled his pants.

Emery knew he was in trouble and knew there was nothing he could do about it.  Once again, he was trapped.  He was going to be raped in the middle of the hallway, behind the tall plants near the elevator, where no one could see them if they passed by, no one could help. “Ricky, no, not again, I told you… Tomorrow…” his words were slurring now, the spots getting bigger in his eyes, as he was propped like a ragdoll against the cold wall, fighting to stay awake.

“But I need you _now_ , Emmy baby, it’s been too long.  I was the second to have you here and Daddy put you under _my_ employ. _I own you_.  You don’t have a choice with me if you want to stay here.” Ricky smirked, biting Emery’s neck hard as he slipped his hands under Emery’s legs to cradle him in his arms, rubbing his cock along Emery’s ass. “You’re still wet down there, that’s good, this won’t hurt as much, will it?  Just like last time, bent over my desk, you were already ready for me.  And you know what, Emmy baby,” he whispered into Emery’s ear as he pushed his cock into Emery’s ass, reveling in the sound of Emery’s silent cries and whimpers as he started moving hard, pinning him to the wall even further, “Just like in my office… there’s cameras here, too… There’s one in the plant’s pot behind me… and another over the elevator door… _Damn, you feel good_ , Emmy, you’re _still_ so tight after everything you’ve done today… You tight, little slut, such a good boy… I should have taken you to my room instead… But you remember to keep those pretty eyes focused on those points.  I bet we’ll have some good new footage and pictures for your profile after this.  You’ll make Daddy _so_ proud…”

Emery didn’t speak, couldn’t breath anymore, as his body grew numb and cold.  He didn’t want to lose consciousness, not like this, but with his world swirling around him and Ricky pounding into him, all he could do was let go and pray to wake up in a safe place, if and when he ever regained consciousness…

 

Emery’s head felt like someone had shoved a brick into it…

Or two, when he finally woke up again.

“God damn, Ricky, what the fuck did you do to me…” he rolled over on his back to relieve the pain in his hips, but stopped short, frozen.

At first, he figured that he’d feel pain after Ricky’s assault, like the time before, but something was off… something felt… _wrong_.

He opened his eyes to see that his clothes were gone, but he was tucked in his bed now, in what felt like a pair of briefs and…

Then a thought crossed his mind and he shot up from the bed, blood running cold in his veins. “Oh no… No, no, no, Ricky wouldn’t have… he wouldn’t be that dumb to…” _Then what the hell is running down your legs right now!?_   He knew immediately that it wasn’t blood.  His head was spinning again, but not from hunger or exhaustion, but from deadly fear.

 _Oh God, oh please let this be something else, I promise, I don’t even need Paul anymore if you let me be wrong!_   He prayed all the way upstairs and into the shower room, quickly closing the shower curtain behind him before he dropped his underwear.

 _Oh great, thanks God, it was far worse than I’d imagined_ , he thought, staring at the cum still wet in his briefs.  The briefs he had not been wearing when Ricky fucked him, which meant it had to have come from somewhere other than Ricky simply pulling out and shooting semen in his underwear.

Emery took a shaky deep breath and reached a hand behind him to spread his cheeks, just to check, and sure enough more of the stuff was there.

Ricky never used condoms, he was an expert at knowing when to pull out, knowing how to hide his evidence from the boss when he went around fucking his boys, risking their lives with any various number of diseases that everyone knew he had to have by now, on top of the very major disease they all knew for a fact that he’d had this whole time, yet never drew attention to it.  But this time something changed.  This time, _Emmy_ was being punished for the scarf, the money, and abandoning Ricky under some contract they had that Emery had never known anything about, before now.

Tears ran down his face unnoticed, blurring his vision terribly as he picked up the cum-soaked, one hundred dollar bill Ricky left in his underwear as a cheap tip.

Emery was cheap, Emery was easy prey, and now, Ricky also wanted him to know that he’d been officially sprayed, tagged, and sold to the worst prick on this earth. 

There was no way he could bounce back from this.  What exactly does one do after… Beyond a doubt, Emery knew a test would be useless now; Ricky was filthy.  There was no way a test would show him anything but the obvious truth.  He was surely infected now.  After all the beatings, all the lost tips, all for trying his best to stay safe, to make his clients and lovers be careful with him, he had failed… all over a stupid scarf from man that wouldn’t remember his name, let alone call him back; another liar, another heartless john, who would care less if he died tomorrow.

He sank down to the cold tile floor, growing nauseous at the feeling of liquid spreading under his bottom.  He was screwed, royally screwed, and was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. _God, help me, please… God, please, please help me._ All his life, he’d stayed safe and clean and healthy, and now, his life was over. 

 

He barely registered the shower curtain being pulled open, but when the unfamiliar, tall blonde kid stepped inside with him, his anger started to boil, needing a release, “Kid, I’m warning you, get the fuck away from me.  I’m not in mood,” he stated in a low, shaky voice.

The kid seemed visibly nervous about the tone, but didn’t leave, just glanced at the briefs still lying around Emery’s ankles. “Hey, look… I’m not trying start trouble or anything, I just… I know you don’t know me, and I know you don’t want to talk about this, but…” he took a deep breath and finally bucked up his courage, “I saw what happened,” he blurted.

Emery rose his eyes to the blue ones of the tall blonde, “ _Excuse me_ , you saw _what_ , exactly?” He involuntarily drew his legs close together. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I… I saw what Ricky did to you…” The boy looked away as Emery’s eyes glared daggers back at him.

Emery grew silent.  He hadn’t seen anyone nearby when Ricky caught him. “I… I don’t understand…”

“Well… me and a couple other boys were coming back from jobs and well, you were unconscious, and… Ricky threatened that he’d come after us next if we didn’t fuck off, but we… _I_ hid around the corner to… Well, I didn’t mean to watch, but… Look, what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry about what happened to you, it’s unfair, and I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to talk about it, you could talk to me, or something…” he wracked his fingers through his short, spiked hair, nervously.

Emery continued to stare, before breaking his resolve and laughing in the kid’s face, “Get out of here, kid, you act as if this isn’t normal here.  Let me guess, you’re _new to this_?  Well my advice to you is to tear up your contract and get a real job, otherwise you’ll end up like the rest of us; _fucked_.”

“But that isn’t right…”

“What isn’t?  Getting fucked by your pimp?  We’re whores, what do you expect?”

“No, I mean, Ricky’s not supposed to be doing that, unless given orders to, which is rare and only meant to be for business purposes… Only Daddy’s allowed to touch us, not Ricky, Daddy said so himself when I was… When I was signing my contract,” the boy blushed and cleared his throat.  “And Daddy has cameras all over his office to watch us, cameras to every place but Ricky’s office, which I’m sure makes sense, since all the boys I’ve talked to always say he does his dirty work only in _that_ room, but tonight, he fucked up, you know?” The kid squatted down to sit on the opposite wall in the small shower stall, uninvited, trying not to look at the bruises on Emery’s hips.

Emery was at a loss.  This conversation wasn’t making him feel any better. “So, you mean… That by probably tomorrow morning, if not tonight, Ricky will either be fired or get a slap on the wrist for fucking me up, and I’ll _most certainly_ be fired, end up on the streets again, homeless, and _diseased_ now, thanks to Ricky.  Gee, that’s sounds wonderful.  Thanks for the information, kid,” he muttered, burying his head in his knees, wondering if he should drown himself in the shower and if it was even possible.

The kid furrowed his brow, “Diseased?  I didn’t know Daddy let people work here with diseases…”

“He doesn’t, and Ricky doesn’t turn tricks anymore since he’s too old, so he doesn’t count.  I, myself, was negative up until the second Ricky decided my asshole was a fucking condom.” He quickly wiped away a tear, suddenly feeling filthy and nauseous again, and afraid, like he was dying already. 

“But, Ricky didn’t… He pulled out.” He nodded as Emery looked up at him confused, “Yeah, he was upset that he _had_ to pull out, but he still did.”

“Oh, yeah?  Then how do you explain the cum soaking my ass right now?”

“I dunno… It was the _way_ he pulled out, I guess… Okay, this sounds weird, but… I don’t know, he kept…” he tried to explain it through hand gestures, but came up short, finally giving up and just saying it, “He just humped your ass until he came, and I’m guessing wasn’t expecting it to be so much, but reasoned to himself that you deserved it, or something… I couldn’t really hear him that well, I dunno, but either way, you should be safe, maybe, but I’d still get tested… If you want, I can go with you when you do it… if you need support,” he shrugged. “Everyone needs a friend, you’re always so quiet and to yourself here, so… I’m here if you need me.” The kid smiled, still blushing nervously, still surprised at his own boldness to speak out.

Emery didn’t know what to say.  The words were stuck, but the tears had no problem coming out now.  “Thank you,” he whispered, “No, don’t hug me, I’m filthy.  I need a shower, so…” he sniffed, surprised and grateful for the arm the boy gave him to help him stand.

The boy instantly dropped to his knees to help untangle Emery’s ankles from the soiled briefs. “I’m Jacob, by the way…” he ducked his head, embarrassed by how pretty Emery was up close. It made Jacob extremely self-conscious.

“Jacob… Thank you, I… I owe you a lot.  I’m Emery,” he added quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Oh I know, everyone calls you Tigerlily, right?  You’re really popular here, all the other new boys envy you and all the older ones are in love with you.  They think you’re mean, because you get all the tough jobs and you’re quiet, but I didn’t think so.   _No one_ would pick that work if they had a choice, and you’re too gorgeous to be mean,” he blushed, changing the subject quickly, he stood back up, briefs in hand. “What do you want me to do these?”

“Burn them,” Emery muttered, exhausted again, as he turned on the hot, shower spray. “I’ll never wear them again, you might as well.”

“What about this,” he asked, holding up the soiled paper bill.

“If you can clean it, you can keep it.  I don’t want it.” He looked away, ignoring the shame he suddenly felt.

Jacob saw Emery look away, clearly wanting some alone time. He smiled, oblivious to the growing erection in his pants as he stood perplexed for a moment watching Emery shower, “Um, well, good night.  I’ll see you later, okay?” He backed out of the shower stall.

“Okay, Jacob.  Thanks again.  You’re a good kid.” He watched Jacob leave, relieved to be alone finally to wash away the horrors of the day.  It truly had been a very long, excruciating day. He didn’t know what to do anymore. 

He gingerly massaged his aching body, unable to get to every spot that needed his attention, but it would have to be sufficient for now.

 _I have to leave this place.  I can’t stay here_.  It was no longer a question in his mind, he had to leave.  It didn’t matter if Ricky took all the money he saved up; he’d get more, and fast, with his normal, nicer clients.  He’d make his own way now, with his own rules and own standards.  No more exploiting, no more having to hide his share.  Hell, he’d take Jacob with him, just to save the kid that pain if he still wanted to work in this industry after what he’d seen tonight.

He took a deep, shaky breath, and simply let go, let the tears and sobs flow freely now, he needed to get it out of his system before he could make his next move; let go of the pain of betrayal from his family and friends back home, let go of the fear of being on the streets again, the pain of loneliness, the pain and humiliation, of rape, the pain of quiet desperation, of hunger, of pain itself.  He had to let go of this place.  And most importantly, he had to let go of Paul.

Emery sunk back down to the tile floor, letting the steamy water flow over him, shaking, sobbing, _aching_ now, from the pain of letting go.  Nothing else mattered before Paul, and now, nothing could exist if he kept waiting for him.  It wasn’t practical, it wasn’t safe, and he wanted to be safe, and take care of himself.  Paul wasn’t coming back for him, ever, and he had to accept that and let go, if he wanted to survive.

_I will survive…_

_It’s what I’m good at._


	7. Chapter 7

Three months passed by and Paul was doing pretty well for myself.  His job was going great, his coworkers were nice and friendly – and some, even a little over weight, too – and made him feel like he had real friends there, inviting him to dinners, movies, bars, all sort of activities Paul had been avoiding for years.  He’d even been able to get the wall paper fixed in his apartment, along with getting the windows cleaned, buying some new furniture – but kept his favorite couch, of course – and even went grocery shopping for the first time in his life by himself to get food ingredients for the cookbook recipe he and his coworker Joanna were going to make for the office party in two days.

Dan barely spoke to him as they passed each other in halls on occasion while walking with one of his new ‘boyfriends,’ and Paul couldn’t care less.  He felt alive on the outside, and even inside most nights, and most of the time, Paul couldn’t be any happier with that.

 _Most_ nights.

He never got rid of Emery’s things, just kept them tucked away in a little box in the back of his wardrobe, hidden under his shoeboxes, out of sight, yet always present in his mind.

But he was okay with that.  Surely he couldn’t be the only person on the planet who’d ever lost a lover and never moved on.  Why should he?  He still loved Emery, he was the love of his life; there was no arguing or avoiding that, so why run away from it?  Paul had found a love that simply could not be replaced and he had no intentions of trying.

He eased back into his comfy, leather desk chair, gazing out of the window of his nice, small office, enjoying the view of the people and events going on in the street.

He resisted the urge to think of Emery when a raven haired girl with long hair existed a café across the street, or when Jason in the next office called him Paulie, but didn’t say it the right way, not like…

Paul sighed.  Three months had passed and not a sight of Emery or even the mention of his name.  His profile was missing from the Daddy’s Boys site, which oftentimes had Paul unable to sleep at night, fearing the worst had happened to the poor, beautiful, boy and at other times, happy and content that maybe, just maybe, Emery had taken his advice and gotten out.  Maybe he’d moved somewhere else, or had become a fashion model like he should have been from the beginning… But Paul never saw his face in any of the magazines floating around the offices, or in the photos posted in the newspapers during fashion week… Maybe Emery had gone completely out of state and was working on getting into college now?  Wonderful, but highly unlikely, considering he’d probably never even finished high school…

“Hey, _Rheese’s pieces_ ,” Tina smiled teasingly at the door to his office, bringing him away from his thoughts with the sharp click of her high heels, “It’s almost noon, and looks like it’s going to rain later, so we’re having our break early.  Wanna go get lunch?”

“Sure, thanks.  I need a break,” he stretched and yawned as he rose from his chair.

Tina snorted, “From what?  Stalking people from your office window when you’re half asleep?” She laughed at his sour expression, wrapping her arm around his as they left the office.  As soon as they were past the main doors, Tina’s jovial mood switched, serious and concerned, “Hey, big guy, you okay?  You’re looking really blue right now, you thinking about something?  Or _someone_ ,” she asked, twisting her hips in the tight skirt she wore as they weaved through the people on the street. 

“No, I’m fine, just tired,” he lied, petting her small hand to ease her concern, changing the subject, “I think I’m in the mood for sushi, today.  What about you?”

Tina eyed him skeptically, a knowing hand on her hip, “Okay, ‘Mr. I’m-too-shy-to-talk-about-my-feelings,’ go ahead, I’ll be across the street at the bakery.  What me to pick up something for you?  A donut?  A piece of cake?  The _whole bakery_ ,” she teased, poking his stomach.

“ _Haha_ , funny, you little runt.  No, I’ll be fine.  I’ll see you in a few,” he answered, the small smile still on his lips as he continued along the sidewalk full of passing faces and voices shouting back and forth.  The sky was getting greyer as he reached the end of the block and crossed the side street, loving the smells of the food coming from the restaurants every time a door opened or when he caught a whiff of the fruits and flowers being sold on the street, the bananas and oranges, apples, roses, tulips…

Strawberries.

The scent engulfed his nose, filing his lungs as he stopped to take it all in.  He could just close his eyes now and see Emery, smell his hair, feel his smooth creamy skin.  It was torture and bliss, all at the same time.  Paul’s heart pounded as he remembered how that scent had stayed in his sheets for weeks before his own soap and shampoo mournfully replaced it.  _God, if only I could get that smell back just for one night…_

_“Paulie?”_

He wasn’t sure he heard that name, in the midst of so many people.  His heart ached knowing that that name was being called for someone else… The strawberries’ scent grew stronger as the wind blew in his direction.  He could have stayed there, in the middle of the busy sidewalk all day, for the rest of his life, just to have this feeling come back to him like this, even if it weren’t the real thing…

“Paulie?”

In fact, none of this was real; the sound of Emery’s beautiful voice calling to him wasn’t real, just like the scent of the strawberries was artificial, like the shampoo, rather than the real fruit.

The shampoo…

A warm hand with long, slender fingers cupped the side of his face in the darkness behind his lids, feeling so real, so close, as if…

“Teddybear?”

Paul opened his eyes and was immediately blinded by bright-green orbs staring back at him, and long, black waves that fluttered in the light breeze.

 _Emery…_ Emery.  The world around him disappeared and time stopped as reality quickly sunk in.

Emery was here, standing right in front of him…

Emery stood before him, tears running down his lovely cheeks as he stared into Paul’s eyes, completely in disbelief that this moment was real.  He’d simply been walking down the street on his way to the bank when he turned a corner and Paul was walking right in his direction.

Neither could breathe nor even speak as they stood there, Emery’s hand still on Paul’s cheek as Paul stood paralyzed and overtaken with Emery’s beauty for the hundredth time.  They stayed there for an eternity, before Emery found the courage to speak again.

“Hello, teddybear,” he whispered, suddenly noticing the tears in his eyes, quickly wiping them away to see Paul clearly, still unsure if this was really happening.

All Paul could manage to say was the name over and over until it felt real, that he wasn’t simply uttering a name but saying to the boy his true name, “Emery.”

He couldn’t keep his resolve any longer.  Emery destroyed the space between them, standing on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Paul’s strong, gorgeous back, to kiss the man he’d ached for, for months that felt like years in this moment, as Paul’s arms wrapped around his waist, uncaring of what anyone else around them thought.

They were here together now.  What else should matter?

But as they parted from the kiss, reality hit them both hard.  There were a lot of things that should matter and did, like what had happened in each of their lives that changed after they’d met, the constant pain of separation, of doubt, and insecurities.

But neither of them could get past those things.  Even now, in each other’s arms, there was still something missing, something that wasn’t right.

Paul was going to be late getting back to his great new job and great new friends, and Emery was going to do another job in an hour, his hair still damp from the bath he’d taken before he’d left the last john’s apartment.

Just thinking of being fucked by anyone other than Paul made him feel dirty and unworthy to be kissing this man now.  This wonderful man with a stable, safe life who didn’t need an expensive whore, but a real lover, someone to wake up beside every morning, not someone who snuck out in the middle of the night after they’d gotten their money.

Paul could physically feel Emery pulling back, taking his heart with him.  He held on tightly, never wanting this moment to end, because he knew what was coming.  Emery was going to leave him again, and that couldn’t happen, not again, not after everything they’d shared.

Emery gently stepped back, reestablishing his nonexistent personal space, still unable to form cohesive sentences to speak to Paul.

Paul instinctively stepped closer, his mind finally recovering from its coma, “Emery… It’s really you, I… Wow, you look… _beautiful_.  I mean, you were always beautiful, but… It’s been so long… How have you been?  I looked for you… on…Well, I…” he laughed nervously as his brain struggled to recharge.

Emery smiled.  He’d missed that shyness from Paul, missed how at any moment something would trigger in Paul’s mind and the shyness would give way to a bold, strong man ready to claim him like no other human being could. “I’ve missed you, that’s for damn sure,” his smile grew mellow and sad, “I kept hoping you would call for me again, to rescue me from the rest of the flock, but,” he shrugged, missing the humor in his teasing words.

“I _wanted_ to, but… And when I did, you weren’t there, or at least, your profile… Where have you been?  What have you been up to?”

“Oh, well, you know how it goes…” Emery shrugged again, quietly allowing his heart to break as his life continued to push Paul away with every word he spoke, “I got out of it, or at least, I stopped working for the club… I work on my own now.”

“Really?” Paul felt his heart burst at the news that Emery had gotten out, only to wither into itself at the news that Emery was _still_ selling his body. “Wow, that’s…”

“Yeah… It’s great, though.  I don’t have to deal with complete jerks anymore, now that I get to pick who I fuck myself,” he blushed at the vulgar slip, “instead of a pimp, you know?”

“Oh, sure.  Yeah, um…” Paul tried his best to stay optimistic.  But really, what had he expected?  That this gorgeous creature would just magically appear one day to jump into his arms and they’d live together exclusively, happily ever after? “Where are you living now?  Do you have your own place?”

“No, not yet, but I’m working on it.  It’s one of the reasons why I left the club, I’d been saving up money for when I got out, so I’d have enough for an apartment, but then my pimp found out about it, and you’re not supposed to withhold your tips, well, he was angry, and one thing lead to another, so now, I guess you could say I’m rebuilding my bank account, huh,” he grinned, trying to take the sting out of his words and the memories they brought up. “Right now, I’m staying at a hotel downtown.  It’s eating a lot of the money I make, but it’s better than working from the streets, you know… So what about you?  How are things for you?  Have you found a good boyfriend yet?” _Oh please say no, Paul…_

“Oh, no.  Still single, still waiting for…” _you,_ “I haven’t really been looking for anyone, so… I mean, I… I’m just too busy, I guess.” Paul couldn’t stop kicking himself mentally over missing the prefect chance to tell Emery the truth.  _Again_.  Didn’t he remember that night at all?  Paul couldn’t have dreamed up all the powerful words of endearment, the passion, the true confessions of love that he had whispered into Emery’s ear all the while…

“Oh, well, being busy is good, I guess,” Emery’s smile fell, as he wished he could go run away somewhere to cry his eyes out for the rest of his life.  All that time, he’d been hoping that Paul’s fantasy was true, that he _did_ love him, and that now was going to be the day were Paul proved it… _Well, Em, at least, for once, you got to live out your own fantasy for a while, even if it was short lived._

“So… um, looks like it’s going to rain pretty soon.  Do you need a ride back to your hotel?” _Or back to my apartment where you should be living instead?_

“I’ll manage,” Emery smiled, mentally shutting down and cursing the weather for cutting their time short.  He had to act fast, a moment like this never happened everyday, and he had to keep Paul, at least for a few more hours.

He wrapped his arms around Paul’s waist as the rain drops began to fall, loving being here, feeling so safe and warm on Paul’s chest.  He looked up into Paul’s beautiful brown eyes that he’d missed so much, forcing himself into work-mode once again, when all he wanted was to tell the truth.  If this didn’t work, if Paul refused him and walked away, Emery really would kill himself, because this was it for him, his reason for living, to love Paul and be with this man forever.  He had to try, to make sure he knew exactly what Paul felt for him. “So, teddybear, what are your plans tonight?”

Paul’s heart skipped a beat as Emery drew close again, “I’m not sure, probably the usual, I guess… Order some food and watch a movie?  Whatever I’m in the mood for… What about you?  Are you busy?”

“Oh no, I’m completely free tonight.  I’ll be all alone in my room… just… watching TV, or something…” He looked into Paul’s eyes deeply, smiling, his voice low and private, “Say, how about I give you my address and the room number, and after dark, if you’re in the mood for it, you come stop by so we can get reacquainted… You know, make up for all the lost time?  I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you… I need you, Paulie, I really do.”

Paul’s will almost cracked at the name whispered, perfected, through Emery’s wonderful lips.

 _Almost_.  Paul knew what Emery – no, _Tigerlily_ – was up to, and he couldn’t stand for that anymore.  If he were going to be happy and live a good life, he’d have to end this now, before he got hurt again. “No, I’m sorry.  I’m not interested.  I don’t want to have to pay for sex again.  It’s too expensive, too forced… and quite frankly I don’t want go through all the aftermath shit again.  It hurts, it’s cruel, and just leaves me feeling a million times more lonely than I was beforehand, so thanks, but no thanks,” he answered quietly, crumbling at Emery’s expression at the denial.

Emery blinked at Paul, swearing he’d just heard the man wrong, but the stern look on Paul’s face told him more than words ever could.  This was it, Emery’s moment of truth, where he would know for sure if Paul loved him, and clearly the man did not.  Once again, Emery had just been another plaything to him like everyone else.

He didn’t try to hide behind a mask now, not caring at all about the tears that streamed down his face as he looked away from Paul’s serious gaze.  He’d never felt like such an idiot, such a naïve, little whore before in his life and now he wanted nothing more than to die. “ _Oh_ … I… I’m sorry.  I’m such an idiot, I thought…” he laughed trying to soften the blow but it didn’t work. “I just thought… that, I dunno… I just thought we’d hit it off so well last time, and… Never mind, babe, I’m sorry.  It really was great seeing you again, and I’m glad you’re doing well… Um, bye…” Emery’s eyes were opaque with tears as he turned to leave, his body seemingly failing him as his heart broke down into a million irreparable pieces.

Paul grabbed Emery’s arm as he turned to leave, pulling the surprised boy back into his arms to wipe away the tears and the kiss his cheeks dry.

“Paul, stop it… Just let me go, please,” Emery sobbed.

He understood where he’d gone wrong, Emery wasn’t asking him over just for money, in fact the money was not important to Emery at all, just the company, _his_ company in particular. “No, because I’m not done talking to you yet,” Paul stated calmly, cradling Emery’s head to his as the boy fought weakly to escape. “I don’t want that anymore, I don’t want Tigerlily, I _hate_ Tigerlily, because he’s a lie, a fa­­çade of someone you’re not, Emery.  I want _you_ , with no strings, no price tags, no more saying goodbye.  Do you understand me?”

Emery shook his head confused, ignoring the strands of hair sticking to his face from the heavy rain. “Don’t play with me, Paul, please, just let me go.  I get it, it’s okay.”

“No, you don’t,” Paul cupped the hurt face in his large hands, “I want _you_ , Emery.  I don’t want Tigerlily, I don’t want a toy, I _want_ a _boyfriend_.  That’s all.  I can’t… I can’t let you go again, I can’t keep going on pretending that the love between us doesn’t exist, that this is just lust and business… I can’t go through that anymore, Emery,” Paul sighed, “So, if you really, truly _love_ me and want to be with me, if you really do _need_ me like you said, then let me know now.”

“ _How_!?” Emery would walk on fire at this point, whatever Paul wanted, he would freely give, so long as it made Paul stay. “Tell me.”

“Go out with me.”

“What… _where_?”

“On a date.  A _real_ date, Emery.  Please?” Paul’s heart had to be bruised and ready to fail with how constantly the organ stopped, sped up, or skipped too many beats.  He’d never done anything like this before and was terrified that he’d screwed up.  He hadn’t meant to make Emery cry at all, but the kid looked ill now, about to simply wither away and die at Paul’s denial.

Emery’s mind was reeling, he felt sick. “Paul, I don’t understand, what do you want from me?  You want to talk?  Okay, I’ll tell you everything about my life, about what happened after I left.  You want sex?  I’ll freely give it to you, I love you, Paul, I’d be happy to.  I’ll give you fucking everything you want, just… Please, I don’t want to lose you again.  _Anything_ …”

He’d said it.  He’d finally said those words, and he meant them.  Paul saw truth in Emery’s blurry eyes, the same truth that had been there all along, private, only for Paul.  It had been there as soon as Emery told him his real name.  “Emery, say it again, for me, please?”

“I… I love you, and I don’t know why, but I just do,” Emery sniffed the last of his tears away, finally calming down now that Paul’s words were making sense. “So, you… you want to go out on a date with me… _Why_?  I’m… I’m not what you want, Paul… I’m not a good person… and you _are_ , and you need to find someone who deserves you.  All I need is one night.  I can survive after that—”

“You aren’t a bad person, Emery,” Paul whispered in his ear. “You have a beautiful spirit.”

“No, I don’t.  I’m a whore that…” he shook his head, “How can I offer you anything special when so many people have already taken everything I have,” Emery looked in Paul’s eyes, searching for an answer.

“Your _love_ is special… Your _body_ is special… _You_ are special, Emery, because you allowed me into your life, it wasn’t forced, it was you, _really_ you, not a screen name, no collar, just you, and that’s all I could ever ask for from you, to be yourself.  You love me, and I love you, we don’t have to keep distances anymore.” Paul took a deep breath, “We’re here now, and this chance may never come again, so… Emery, if you’re free tonight, I was wondering if you’d like to go have dinner with me?”

“That’s all,” Emery asked carefully.

“That’s all.”

“Can I… if you want to, could I spend the night, too?”

“Of course, Emery, stay as long as you want,” Paul smiled at Emery’s furrowed brow.  He still couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“What if I never want leave,” Emery breathed out as Paul’s kisses tickled his neck, afraid to ask that question any louder and overstep his boundaries. “Well, what happens then?  You’ll get tired of me.”

“That won’t happen,” Paul stated matter-of-factly, as they moved under the tarpaulin of the café nearby to get out of the rain. “So, dinner, then drinks back my place.  I’ll pick you up around… eight-thirty?  Unless… you wanted to go out _now_ , then we could… If your free—”

“I could cancel everything,” Emery offered immediately, shivering from the rain and chilly air.

Paul quickly wrapped Emery’s small frame up in his suit jacket to try and keep the skinny boy warm and dry. “Very well then, and I could take off the rest of the day.  So what do you say?  You want to go out with me _for real_ this time?  And the time after that, when we go out on more dates?”

Emery glanced up, admiring Paul’s handsome, happy face, wondering how in all his life he could get so lucky to have this.  He smiled, “Absolutely… _teddybear_.”

 

**Epilogue**

 

Paul was completely exhausted as he made his way up the elevator to his apartment.  The entire day was a huge, stressful mess.  Both Tina and Jason called in sick and Paul got left with not only his work, but theirs as well, and now all he wanted was a hot bath and sleep.  Emery would understand, Paul working overtime today meant that he’d basically missed their one-year anniversary, and Emery was probably already asleep anyways, tired of waiting up for him.

The elevator stopped on his floor with a jolt as the doors creaked opened.  Paul was so grateful when he pulled out his key and unlocked the door, finally home.

The loft was lit by just the lamp in the corner, where Emery lounged on the old couch in a tight, thin t-shirt and tiny black shorts, hair down and around his shoulders, brow furrowed as he quietly studied from his history textbook.  His GED exam was coming up in a few weeks, “Hey, Paulie, you’re late.  How was work?”

Paul closed the door quietly behind him, hanging up his coat on the rack by the door, stopping to admire the boy for a minute.  They’d been together for an entire year now, and life couldn’t be better for them both.  Paul dragged Emery with him to his gym workouts during the off days of the week, and to museums and the theater on the weekends.  Emery was doing exceptionally well in the majority of his classes, and even managed to squeeze in a volunteer job at the shelter on his days out of class, which was looking to become a full-time, full-paying job very soon.

There were times when Emery still struggled with his past and his new life, but with Paul’s constant help and attention, he only seemed to be on a fast track to full recovery from the things he’d endured.

 _The boy’s certainly got a brilliant mind, and knows how to survive.  I’m proud of him_.  Paul made his way over to the couch, stacking up the scattered books into a neat pile on the coffee table, happy when Emery immediately stopped studying and hopped into his lap for a kiss. “Hey, Emery, I know.  I’m sorry, but I had to fill in for Tina and Jason today,” he glanced over Emery’s shoulder to the notebook behind him, the page was covered in odd doodles, “What were you working on?”

“My _funeral_.  I got up right after you left for work and got to it immediately, and I still don’t really know what I’m doing with the algebra lessons.  Thank God Jacob’s dad is a math teacher.  I spent three hours on the phone with them today trying to figure out what the hell the Pythagorean theorem was, or whatever it’s called,” Emery muttered, slumping under Paul’s arm. “I _kinda_ figured it out though, so I’m working on my history notes right now… which don’t really look too good with all that junk all over them.”

“That’s good, how is Jacob, by the way?” Paul asked, stroking Emery’s hair, petting the exposed skin of his lower back as his hand traveled down the long, wavy tresses.  He’d been more than a little appalled and angry when Emery had told him about what his pimp had been doing to him, and about the STD scare, but was immensely relieved when Emery told him about Jacob.  He had been the blonde kid at the restaurant, on the date with the old man, that Dan made fun of.  He was a sweet kid, and incredibly clever; at only nineteen years old, he’d managed to single-handedly bring down Daddy Boy’s club, and find the other boys a safe haven with a shelter, after Ricky and Daddy were arrested, all the while, helping Emery to get on his own two feet.

“He’s doing wonderfully.  We were able to chat for a while after his dad helped me out.  His parents both have accepted him back into the family now and aren’t threatening to exorcise his ‘homosexual demons’ anymore, and he got his acceptance letter from the university in Rochester two days ago as well.  He was also extremely happy about the money you sent him, and tomorrow, he and a friend from his high school are going to look for an apartment close to the school, so…” He’d been reluctant to tell Paul about what happened at first, afraid he’d realize that he no longer wanted Emery after being so violently used, but Paul took it all in stride, found him a counselor, got him back in school, and even drove to Jacob’s parents’ house to thank the boy personally for saving Emery’s life.

But with Jacob gone, Emery was finding it hard to adjust a lot of times to this new life.  Jacob had only been an escort for a handful of months before he met Emery, only going on simple dates, and he, like most of the boys, wasn’t constantly getting hurt on the jobs he took, so it was easy for him to pick up where he’d left off back home.  Emery, on the other hand, had a completely different story. 

He was still uncomfortable at times having causal, harmless sex with Paul, at times needing him to get a little rough during foreplay to get his mind to shut down and accept the unaccustomed pleasure that followed, instead of the pain.  He wasn’t used to being in such a safe, stable environment all the time either.  All of Paul’s lovely coworkers had come by the day after Emery moved in to set up a surprise, late birthday party for him, with Paul’s help.  And Paul was so easy-tempered, so quick to laugh and show love, it confused Emery at times, made him feel like he was short changing Paul with all his domestic and relationship hang-ups.  But he felt good today, Paul was finally home, and Emery was excited about the surprise he had waiting for Paul… although most of it would need reheating by now. “Thanks again, by the way, for helping Jacob out like that.  It means a lot to me,” Emery smiled at the blush that spread over Paul’s cheeks.

“No problem, Emery,” he yawned, “So, how was our anniversary,” he asked, sarcastically, “Did I miss anything?”

Emery smirked up at Paul, _you missed quite a bit, teddybear._ He’d been ‘celebrating their anniversary’ for about an hour before Paul got home. “Nope, nothing exciting… just studying, but… Come look in the fridge,” he got up and pulled Paul into the small kitchen.

Paul skeptically opened the fridge doors and saw two boxes of large pizza, a case of beer, and a small cake decorated with the words, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY” and a teddy bear drawn in icing on the top.

“While you were at work, Tina and Jason came over to help me bake the cake, so… I hope you like it.”

“ _Baby_ ,” Paul was deeply touched.  It was beer and pizza, the food they’d shared on their first meeting. “This is _wonderful_ ,” he smiled, wrapping Emery in a huge bear hug, trying to ignore the monstrous growl from his hungry stomach.

Emery smirked, “I’m glad the beast likes it too,” he poked Paul’s stomach and reached for the pizza and beer, “Help me carry this stuff to the couch, please?”

Paul grabbed the cake, pausing to admire Emery’s ass in the tiny shorts, “I have no idea where you manage to find such tempting clothing, Emery.  It has to be illegal.”

 Emery’s brow furrowed as he twisted to look at his ass, then smirked, “You don’t like it?  Would you like me to put on something else, teddybear?”

Paul blushed, “You know what I want,” he put the cake on the coffee table, then grabbed Emery for a deep kiss, hands traveling down his hips to roughly pull the shorts down, freeing Emery’s ass for Paul’s hands to violate as his kisses trailed down his neck.

Emery was completely taken off guard by Paul’s sudden attack, and instantly hard, as Paul’s hands were suddenly everywhere.  He tugged Paul’s shirt to pull him over to the couch for them to lie down.  Emery pulled open the button shirt and unzipped Paul’s pants with his teeth, attacking flesh wherever he saw it, turning the tables on Paul’s lust.  As soon as Paul’s cock was free from his boxers, Emery devoured it, loving the moans and surprised gasps coming from Paul’s lips.  He bobbed his head, opened his throat and took it all, repeating the pattern until Paul reached his climax.

Paul had never allowed himself to cum this way with Emery, afraid he wouldn’t be able to do anything more afterwards, but Emery was good, very good, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get Paul hard again tonight.  It was wonderful, even the flavor of Paul’s seed was surprisingly refreshing to Emery as he swallowed it all without pause.

Paul was seeing stars and unable to breath, a little voice in his head telling him that he was dying, as his heart pounded angrily in his chest.  He laid his head back on the arm of the couch, closing his eyes to recharge.  It was incredible; Emery knocked him off his feet every time that boy got anywhere near his groin.

Emery grinned, lying over Paul. “You okay, teddybear?”

“Oh yeah,” he huffed, “Just… gimme a second… okay?”

“Okay,” Emery sat up, straddling Paul’s waist, wondering if it were too soon to start over, to get his own kicks now.  It was definitely something he liked about normal sex with Paul; he could always look forward to being rewarded for his… talents.  _Hmm… maybe I should give him a minute or two, maybe eat a little first._

He got up off the couch to go heat up the pizza.

Paul took another deep breath.  _Okay, I’ll be fine now.  You’re all right, Paul._  

He stretched to get the kinks out of his back, from lying funny on the edge of the couch, but stopped when he felt something strange under the cushion.  He sat up and reached his hand under the large pillow and laughed to himself.  _Emery, you naughty, little thief._   He pulled his blue bullet out and sat it on the coffee table to find the remote that went with it.  _Emery certainly hadn’t been doing anything exciting today, huh?_ “Hey, baby, what did you say you did today?”

“Huh?” Emery returned to the living room with the food.  He paused when he saw Paul’s knowing look and the vibrator on the table.  He blushed scarlet. “I studied…”

“ _And_ …”

“I studied,” Emery hid his grin behind a shrug as he quickly put down the pizza to sit on the couch beside Paul. “How’d your vibrator get here,” he asked innocently.

“Gee, I’m not sure.  Let’s call Tina and Jason and see if they know anything about it,” he threatened, taking out his phone to find their number.

Emery paled and lunged for the phone, landing over Paul again, “Don’t!” He tickled Paul roughly until the man relented. “So what, if I used it? I can’t find mine,” he reasoned, “Besides, you never used the damn thing. And plus,” he straddled Paul’s waist again, lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room, “I needed it today, you weren’t here,” he playfully pouted, moving his hips the tiniest bit back and forth over Paul’s groin, feeling the man’s body stir again. “But I don’t need it anymore, do I?  You’re here now…”

Paul swallowed hard at Emery’s lustful stare, his eyes turning to a deeper, darker shade of green, as his hip movements grew more serious. 

Emery tossed his hair over one shoulder as his hands traveled over Paul’s chest and around his neck. “Are you hungry, teddybear,” he whispered, licking a hard nipple and making Paul shiver.

Paul swallowed again as he caught Emery’s meaning, “Yeah, very much so, but I have a pretty good feeling that the pizza will be here tomorrow, along with the beer.”

“What about the cake?” Emery lay down to nip and kiss Paul’s neck.

“Oh no, the cake will be eaten tonight, just… later.  We have other things we need to do now.”

Emery moved his hips in rhythm with Paul’s own as they rose up slightly to meet his, impatiently. “Like what, teddybear,” Emery whispered in his ear.

“Like giving you your anniversary presents…” Paul reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the small, velvet ring box, placing it on the edge of the coffee table for Emery to see.

 

 

 

The End


End file.
